,/# tuc 



1^^ 




W/U/AMC 
' BLAYDES^ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

■p^TTp^ 

Cliap. Copyright No. 

Shelf.£S2jl4- 

H&tt;. 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



B /Iftotto (to tbe Spirit) 

See ivhat viy faith hath brought thee 



DEVOTIONAL Offerings 



Musings of the great sublime, 
In many metres of the art, 
Tutoring the susceptive heart, 

To hallow the imprints of time. 



WILLIAM C. BLAYDES 



COMPRISING HYMNS, PSALMS, SONGS, ANTHEMS, CHIMES, 
ODES, AND POEMS. ALL SACRED. LYRICAL, PAS- 
TORAL, DIDACTICAL, AND ETHICAL 






JAN S1 1097 



New York 
PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR 



-f^S 






Copyright 
BY WILLIAM C. BLAYDES 






w 



PEEFACE. 



I THINK it will be admitted by every one acquainted 
with the "progress of poetry that no species of the art is so 
restricted in bounds at the present day, so that in the 
doing at all admitting of being done well as religious poetry, 
for from the time of superstition to religion what has not 
been done, and who has not sang of the power they feel to 
be greater than they. 

In making such an observation I do not to palliate or 
excuse in any way the defects of my own muses, but to re- 
mind the reader that they should be judged by the spirit 
of the age, as a present performance, and not from the ac- 
comphshments of any past one. Poetry is generally the 
result of three causes, experience, event, and feeling, and it 
is in the first and latter classes I wish to include these, for 
while experience often produces event, and event feeling, 
mere feeling alone as a demonstrator of the impressions is 
seldom a promoter of the muse. 

It will be seen I have drawn very little from conven- 
tional sources for my subjects, depending almost entirely 
upon imagination, and the awakened emotions of fact and 
fancy, that store the ductile mind with moods and medita- 
tions of the sacred, to supply me the materials of inspira- 
tion : nor has the scope permitted of a longer essay than 
any herein, which was to portray the variations of a soul 
under the duress of doubt and conviction, that felt to 
believe, asserting as it testified, and to show impulse 



PREFACE 



rather than describe it : for sorrow is the foundation of all 
devout assurance, and joy the elevation which gives but 
a temporary glimpse of the scenes through M'hich the 
Christian passes. 

However well or illy adapted to music these composi- 
tions I have designated, or any others may be, I cannot 
say, I only know I wrote them to the melody of my 
thoughts, and what more could the aspirant or singer wish. 

Individual excellence I have not aimed at, preferring to 
weave a chain whose strength was in its length, and not in 
the beauty of any few links. And if I have no gorgeous 
pendant, no brilliant cluster, I also insist the pearl has its 
charm as well as the diamond, and that the night may 
yield no less splendor than the day. Whatever place opin- 
ion may assign them concerns me little, for I would rather 
them become an echo of oblivion in the cause they rep- 
resent, than the trumpet tone of fame in the ranks of un- 
chastened glory. Saying which I say no more. 



DEDICATIOK" 

TO MY MOTHER. 



I ORlGiNAiiLY intended, dear mother, to inscribe this 
volume to another, one who, lilie yourself, has been to me 
kind as a counsellor, generous as a friend, and to whom I 
deemed I owed the bonds of everlasting gratitude ; and a 
mother, too, not of any distinguished son, but of a noble 
and illustrious daughter on whom the honors of the world 
fall richly and deservedly, and who wears them no less 
gently than to the glory of the religion through which she 
so graciously receives them. But Time, that arbiter of the 
hopes, has decreed otherwise, till by the tie that is thicker 
than water, and by the sanctity of the duty that circum- 
stance renders inviolable over all others, I turn from the 
thoughts of my first desire— not without a sigh, though, 
both for this and that— and, with a more becoming devotion, 
gladly lay this leaf of poesy, as a token of affection, on the 
brow that has never known no other laurel than the smile 
and shadow belonging to the care of the wife and mother, 
and what brow e'er worthier wore one ? 

They say, mother, that the lightning that struck my 
vision from its dream, cast by the will of One not far re- 
moved from here, swept also souje shadoAV over thine own, 
that in the ruins of the temple where love reared its holiest 
idol may be traced the secret of the change in thee— alas! 
so sadly seen. However this may, or may not be, is ventur- 
ous to presume, we will let it pass, and dismiss it with the 
reflection as one of those things which are more blessed 
to receive than give— Amen- for censure or accusation 
there must alone be sacred to me. 

This is not perhaps as high a work, dear mother, as I 
would wish to associate your virtues with, but by the time 
that could be created, if ever, thou shalt be dust, and the 
wish, however proudly consummated, becomes to me but the 
memory of a saddened hope. So now while you are still in 
the flesh, and whilst reason yet retains some spark of recol- 
lection, here will thy name be found the silent witness of 
its own praises, and when thy body is no more to remind 
us of the spirit that has passed— we, thy sons and daugh- 
ters, who call thee by the common title of that sweetest of 
sweet names — our mother. 



DEDICATION 



Here, then, let the deed be done, not as my remem- 
brance alone, but as the simple index to the scroll on which 
young Fame hopes to seal a life no less worthy than thy 
dear own. You are not as you once were, mother ; will 
never be so again. The mind once bright is clouded, and 
the thought so eagerly solicitous for our welfare, is now the 
wild diviner of the vagary and the fear. But the love you 
ever gave us we shall never cease to return now, and our 
hearts can hold no holier treasure than the need we know 
reserves to thee. A thousand niay mourn thy gathering 
to the tomb, but none like we who know thee as you are 
and as no other can know. 

All this will be read to you, dear mother, and you will 
not understand as you once could, and it may be call forth 
no greater trait of welcome from you than the ominous 
shake or the staring look so natural to thy ways. Then 
be it so, for these, albeit bitter they must seem, shall be 
more to me than the cordial smile, or the sounded strain 
from the approval of the more discerning but yet more dul- 
ler crowd. 

Time may blur, time may blot thine image from the 
human, dear mother, but where the mortal seeks the immor- 
tal I know it will be thy proudest boast to see thy name 
on the page of him who had his birth from thee. And how 
fitting this will be, that I, who was the first fruits of thy 
marriage vows, should now unite thee to the first fruits of 
my aspiring fancy. 

Like your life, dear mother, its progress has been 
marked by trouble deep and ineffaceable— trouble almost 
too harrowing to recall, yet all conquered by the sternest 
resolution and made strong by the thought of the momen- 
tous difficulties to be overcome. 

Like your life also its pages tell of the pure and good, 
of kindness rendered from evil, and of pity bestowed for 
the contumely of the vain. 

Sweetly rest your soul, dear mother, here and for the be- 
yond, and now having linked thy memory and my worship 
of thee to the deeds of goodness, if not to greatness, to no 
glory could I place my tribute with more gratification than 
I do, as here I close myself, as I am. 

Thy Affectionate Son. 



COISTTEE'TS. 

Page 

The Visions 11 

Anthem— Lord of 14 

Anthem— Springs from 14 

Hymn— Long was my heart 15 

Hymn— O teach me how 15 

Psalm— Thou hope 16 

Psalm— In the hours 16 

Go, I would dream 17 

The Years to Come 17 

Heaven 18 

Hymn— O Heavenly Father 19 

Hymn— While looking on 19 

Recompensed 20 

Bright like the dream 20 

O Joy, O Hope 21 

Stanzas— I look , 21 

Hymn— Pure as the sky 22 

Hymn— When death 22 

Bright was the morning 23 

Oh, make me to know Thee 23 

The moon 24 

Psalm— Over the hoping heart 25 

Psalm— Pale, pale 25 

To the Sky 26 

The world will soon forget thee 26 

Ode— There is a God 27 

Over the yeai'S to heaven 28 

How wasted the flowers 29 

Weep for the fallen 30 

There came to my dreams 30 

The Angel's Prayer 31 

The Prayer of the Pariah 32 

come to the festal 32 

1 bring 33 

How 33 

In some more happier sphere 34 

Thou star, thou star 34 

A Curious Tale 35 

Hast thou 38 

One kind word , 38 

O come 1 thou again 39 

Like a terrace of glory . 39 

With fleeting wing 40 

Calm as the current 40 

O have you seen morning 41 

Ode— O earth 41 

Pure be thy dwelling 42 

O teach me to name Thee .,,,.... 42 



8 CONTENTS 



Page 

Hymn— High as the mountain 43 

Hymn— O death 43 

Psalm— When comes 44 

Psalm— Come, come 44 

Folly's Lament to Virtue 45 

Just like the breeze 46 

In that beyond 46 

Apostrophe to the Sun 47 

No never again 47 

Wake, minstrel, wake 48 

As gleams the star 48 

When darkness stills this feeble thought 48 

No 1 call me not 49 

I'll still, remember still 49 

Over the past 50 

As opes the bud 50 

Whole-heartedly or never 51 

Come when thou mayst 52 

When mankind leaves this shadowy vale 52 

Where 53 

come and all my glory be 54 

Come generous hope 54 

The Night 55 

Short was the hour 55 

Where floats the cloud 56 

Faith 56 

Even So 57 

Did e'er the eye 57 

Like yonder bright star 58 

Holy Prayer 58 

Great God Thou art 59 

Song Ode 60 

Lookllookl 61 

1 stood alone 61 

Tribute 62 

Christmas Chime 62 

Like the birds of the dawn 63 

The Vale of my Vision 63 

O Thou ! of all glory 63 

Bright be thy bridals 64 

O didst thou behold Him 64 

O fair to see 65 

There's naught, O God 65 

Yon, where the moon 66 

The burdens, Lord 66 

The Clouds 67 

The Sequel 69 

Christmas Carol 69 

Lo, lo TO 

Hush, let me hope "^0 

As we the things of God behold 71 



CONTENm 9 



Page 

When suffering marks this placid brow 71 

The end is near 71 

Immortality 72 

'Tis then I think the love of Thee 72 

O I show me thy love 73 

Beseeching 73 

The Progress of Religion 74 

Hymn— I long to do 86 

Hymn— Amid the vows 86 

Beyond the sky 87 

As shines the moon 87 

Thou ! of all power 88 

When over the waters 88 

Anthem— Open, Lord 89 

Hosanna 89 

Tell me, is it joy 90 

I've seen 90 

The Whisper 91 

Anthem— When, as a sign 92 

How wondrous, God 93 

When song no more my dreams can woo 93 

Hymn— O let us love Thee 94 

Hy mn— O Lord, I come 94 

The Happy Hour 95 

To My Dead Mother 96 

Eureka 99 

An Idyll of the Day 100 

There will come 100 

1 passed them by 101 

Do not despair 101 

I could 102 

Dirge 102 

All hail the glorious scene 103 

Bright are the dreams we cherish 103 

Life 104 

Hymn— Day by day 105 

Hymn— Hark from 105 

On a Tempest 106 

Where spreads the vaults 108 

'Tis glory's morn 108 

When on my heart 108 

As beams the sun 109 

Now let me fly 109 

may there be 110 

Wouldst thou 110 

Hymn— He is Ill 

Hymn— High in that region Ill 

1 dreamt I saw 112 

There comes a time 112 

Chant 113 

O tarry no longer 113 



10 CONTENTS 



Page 

Hymn— O let us 114 

Hymn— O God ! thy devotion 114 

Fair as the flower 115 

Come, glorious star 115 

O come, be my thought 116 

There dwelleth a land 116 

Song 117 

If yonder lies 117 

Psalm— Freed from 118 

A Precept 118 

It now is Easter 119 

Hymn— When this temple 120 

Echo 120 

Hymn— O teach me I Lord 121 

The sky was bright 121 

Stanzas— I have a wish 122 

O pale are the days 122 

Over the distance 122 

Anthem— See. mantling 123 

Stanzas— O Thou ! the bestower . 123 

The heart droops low 124 

O glorious day 124 

How blithely I wandered 125 

Hark to the timbrels 125 

O let me look 126 

Psalm— The moon in the zenith 126 

Hymn— Come, ye 127 

Hymn— Beyond this vale *. 127 

Thou 128 

High, high in the heavens 128 

What charms beholds 129 

How shines the moon 129 

Power and Patience 129 

Now pales the dawn 130 

The Ebb and Flow 130 

Sorrow, sweet sorrow 131 

1 heard a sweet sound 131 

The Thought that all my Spirit stirred 132 

When music fills this lowly vale 132 

O do Thou 133 

How vain it were 133 

Valediction 134 

Sail on, sail on 135 

Hope 135 

They preach alas 136 

Now breaks the morn 136 

Psalm— O Thou the adored One 137 

Oh, keep me true to Thee. 137 

O whither then 138 

A Prose Poem ,,. 189 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



THE VISIONS. 



I had a dream, a wild fantastic dream, that had 
Its origin in thought, the thought that humbles pride, 
And chastens sorrow to compassion. I dreamt I lay- 
In slumber, and there came, an Angel to my sleep— 
Who wore the mien of lowliness, such as we see in those. 
Who live to hallow death, and ope the portal to another 
World. She beckoned to me, and I arose, and followed. 
As one, led captive by the pulse of fear. But I was not 
Frightened, for she smiled, in such a way, that seemed 
To say, I take thee safely and in safety will return. And 
We came unto a sepulchre, a damp and musty place, where 
Burned a lamp — a dim and spectral lamp — 
That seemed to shape the rotting dead. 
To all their grisly hues again. But she heeded not 
These loathings to my mind, and onward went. 
Until she stopped at a small headstone— a tiny headstone 
In a corner, that seemed phosphorus, for it glowed, with 
Talismanic fire, till I, awe-wrapt in silence, had fain 
Retreated : but she took from beneath her cloak, a wand— 
A slight and slender wand, which was tipped with some 
Celestial crystal, that might have been, a seraph's tear— 
For aught I know— and with this signet of her office, 
She did point, my all-inquiring gaze, to that 
Which riveted it, and bade me read. I closer drew. 
And there beheld, in characters no fusion can erase, 
The livid lustre of this scroll, 

I asked for pity. 

To receive his curse. 
Pondering and pausing on the import of these words, 
I would have questioned, when she raised, her wandless 
Hand, and making of the gloom above, an arc, 
Of the most brilliant radiance, pointed with 
Her finger up to Heaven. I stood immovable — 
For eloquence was in her motion, and my 



13 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



Wonder could detail the rest. She brought me home — 
I know not how, and as my tensioned nerves, 
Relaxed to the soothing trance of sleep again, 
Her shadow passed f i-om me, and her voice, 
Vespering the melody of her thoughts, syllabled 
On my throbbing heart, the echo of these solemn sounds : 
Rest on, rest on, poor maid, 
Thy body here, thy spirit there. 

I dreamt again, and as I dreaming lay — the 
Minion of those fancies, that scan and sear 
The wildered brain. Lo ! an imp appeared, and 
Squatted at my side. A demon from some nether 
Sphere ; dwarfish in stature, hideous in demeanor, and 
With the most sardonic leer the fancying eye could see. 
Drew forth a book, and laying bare its pages, urged 
Me to attend. I could do nought but heed — for 
He looked, as looks the fiend incarnate, when his will. 
Has been usurped by other wills than his. 
And that book did startle me, for it had a cover — 
A scarlet cover, luminous and changing, as of skin — 
Human skin, tanned and scorched by many flames; 
And its clasp, a skull, a mocking, grinning skull. 
That seemed to shape its features, in derision 
Of my own — as I thought. I would have cried, 
But my guest, or captor, or sprite of evil, 
Whatever ye may call him, frowned a warning ; 
And I lay, as those must lay, who wait 
The stroke that carries its oblivion. And he read, 
And gestured as he read, of crimes 
That split the ear with terror, and he told 
Of punishments, so awful in affliction, that the soul — 
Numbed to frigidity — rocked like an earthquake 
In its fastness; so terrible, so harrowing were they all. 
At this my visage shrunk, till the eye — the 
Sole remnant of vitality, glanced wonder past belief. 
Quick was his perception, for with a scowl, 
Not that of anger, but which was more, the augury 
Of pity for my ignorance, he placed the book 
Before me, turned to a page, and signed me to see. 
I looked to behold, traced by the guidance of his hand. 
Caverns of immeasurable depths, like those, Avliich 
Might have been, from natures first convulsions. 
And wearing a most peculiar gloom, all grimly dark, 
And darkly desolate — such as the dawn — the 
Primeval light of dawn, lent to the reigning darkness. 
And where huge bnts, and monster vampires, all 
Bloody taloned and foreboding — fit denizens of such a place- 
Flitted round, and shrieked the guttural of their joy ; 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 13 



As he said. I doubted nothing now— and round 

Their sides so yawning and precipitous, which I could see, 

Were covered with the species of many revolting creatures — 

Products of some epoch long ago — were chambered cells, 

Confining those he told, whose doom ordained them there. 

What was more awful ? But this was not all — 

For he told again of how at times, their tears torrented 

The gulfs around, and their shouts rent fissures in the 

Skies. Credulity was pictured on my brow, 

But my mentor, for such I call him now, intent 

Upon the aspect I displayed, turned still again 

The pages of the book, and with a smile that 

Shadowed forth some climax of the scene, left me 

To proceed. And I did see a marvel to perceive, 

'Twas a cross — a fiery molten cross — suspended how — 

I know not — but there it was, flaming in midair ; 

And on it hung — transfixed in misery — a man, 

A naked living man : some wretch of retribution— 

I supposed. Agony was on his brow, torture in his limbs 

And from his opened breast, I saw his heart — 

Pulsating to the pain that had no end. Oh, it was horrible ! 

Repentance seemed gone from him— spasm after spasm. 

Shook his frame, apparently — and his sweat — 

Like acid, scourged furrows in his flesh. His eyes— 

Or sockets, for they were vacant now — were dens 

Of vipers, and his mouth, so leprous with ulcers. 

That the tongue protruding from the confines of its filth, 

Seemed coated with the rot of every vileness. I 

Turned sickening away, for reason could withstand no 

More. And as I turned, I saw upon the pedestal at its base — 

Which was of fire too, iDut darker, as of boiling smoke, 

A motto chiselled as I deemed in types more 

Fiery than the flame above. I read and fancy dawned 

Upon me, for it told the sequel of it all, and it was : 

He stained a soul. 

To scoflf its woe. 
But still I turned appealingly to my host, who 
Now looked infernal in his mien, but beyond murmuring 
Something that sounded like — transgressed and thwarted 
Love, and showing the title of the book, which was 
Sculptured Justice — was silent as before. 
My visitor passed, how I knew not, whither 
I did not care. And my mind freed as from 
A shackle, woke with a bound, as all must do 
Who dream, and the memory of this day, calls up 
No dreader picture to me, than the fate of him, 

Who sought the fair. 

To make a ruin there. 



14 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



ANTHEM. 

Lord of the heavenly throng, 
Pride of my humble song, 
Now I to Thee belong. 

Death making Thine. 
Faith of my soul Thou art, 
Hope of my trusting heart. 
Knowing no grief can part, 

All that is mine. 



I will arise, I will arise, I will arise. 
I will arise, I will arise, I will arise, 
I will arise, I will arise, I will arise. 
Coming unto Thee. 



Anthems of praise I sing, 
Tributes of love I bring. 
Crowning Thee only king, 

Thee whom I call. 
Let me beloved stand, 
In Thine own promised land. 
Feeling Thy fostering hand, 

Joy for it all. 



ANTHEM. 

Springs from my inmost heart, 

Gushing for Thee, 
All that it could impart. 

Shackled or free: 
Praises and song are mine, 
Love and delight entwine. 
That which is wholly Thine, 

Coming from me. 

may my every dream ! 
Always be found, 

That most desired theme, 

Giving Thee sound. 
Then when this vale I leave, 
Rising the skies to cleave, 

1 shall Thy smiles receive, 
Scattered around. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 15 



HYMN. 

Long was my heart a fountain sealed, 

To every touch of Thine, 
A rock, O Lord, that but concealed, 

Thy water and Thy wine. 
I saw the pilgrims thirst to drink, 

From out its wells of wine, 
And let them perish on the brink. 

Without a draught from Thine. 

But now I have awaked from dreams, 

Alas, too long and vain, 
And from my soul there gushing streams 

A flood of tears and pain. 
And since I will insist, Thine art 

No longer shall be vain. 
Start Thy full nature thro' my heart, 

And bid it flow again. 



HYMN. 

O teach me how ! great God, to follow 

The narrow way that leads me home; 
Till all Thy ways at last I hallow. 

And come to where Thou bidst me come. 
Not in the courts of gilded splendor 

Nor round the domes of altar lights, 
Would I to Thee my Avorship render, 

When love ordains its purest rites. 

But at the shrine where love is present, 

Where hope uplifts its holiest dream, 
There may my soul bid all be absent. 

And call Thee as its simple theme. 
For Thou hast said the goal to virtue 

Lies not in that what pride may win. 
Nor in the things that make its nature, 

But in the truth they cloak within. 

Some find the path to Thee and Heaven, 

The path of gold the path of ease, 
But I would wish my way when given, 

To be the way that must Thee please. 
Not with the pomps of earthly honor, 

I would my steps of glory be. 
But with that more immortal manner, 

Oh, teach me, Lord, to follow Thee. 



16 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



PSALM. 

Thou hope of the erring heart, 

Thou joy of the crave, 
Who can the gift impart 

Freeing the slave; 
Hear me as now I plead, 
Do for Thy honor heed: 
And from these mazes lead 
Looming the grave. 

For I— Yes I— even I 
Though vain and vile I be — 
May look with lowly eye 
In faith and love to Thee. 

Then like a flood of light 

Blazing around, 
Glory my soul will delight 

With the peace crowned; 
Crying rejoice — rejoice ! 
All of my pride and voice; 
For that immortal choice, 

Christ I have found. 



PSALM. 

In the hours of morning, 

Which darkness would thrall, 
A star bright adorning, 

Shone high over all. 
How brilliant, pure, and soft 

Then gleamed its holy blaze. 
And those that looked — looked oft, 

Enchanted with its gaze. 

It has come — has come — has come, 
The star of famed renown, 
Which all the world shall crown 

With glory, light, and love. 

Then join, ye kingdoms, join 

The anthems which we raise. 
And from thy worship help to coin 

The matchless Martyr's praise, 
And then when ye perish, 

Which all must befall, 
Hell shall not cherish 

Nor death be a pall. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 17 



GO, I WOULD DREAM. 

Go. I would dream, there's joy in dreams, 

When he who dreams them can impart 
Some blessing to the ill that seems 

To linger darkly round the heart; 
The dreams of life can never be 

Like those that come to them who think 
There is no hope, O God, like Thee, 

And who but thirst Thy love to drink; 
So I would dream of aught beside, 

That I have known as sorrow's seal, 
For blighted faith has seared my pride. 

And only God the wound can heal. 

Go, I would dream of banished joys. 

Of hopes but sought, yet sought in vain, 
Of echoes that the mem'ry cloys 

Without one tone of pity's strain; 
This mood I feel the mind disturbs 

To leave a void that nothing cheers; 
Yet there is One whose power curbs 

And brightens still the dreary years. 
Thus would I dream, why linger here. 

For solitude must be my goal. 
And thought has still a feeling dear, 

That holds communion with the soul. 



THE YEARS TO COME. 

In the years to come oh, let me render 

All that I most owe to Thee, 
The good, the ill, oh, let me tender 

Of all that I must live to see, 
Oh, teach me not alone misfortune. 

Nor let my way alway be trod 
With fancy's bright or fairer portion 

That lures me from the name of God. 

In the years to come oh, let me render 

All that makes my spirit free, 
To store the darkened with the splendor 

Of all that I would Avish to be; 
And then when I am borne to heaven, 

No more to be a wanderer from, 
These stores of faith shall there be given 

For all my joy in years to come. 
2 



18 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



HEAVEN. 

Thou realm of devotion suspended above me, 

AVhich often I gaze on in silence and fear, 
Take me and make me to adore and to love thee 

For I am so weary of dwelling down here; 
The portals of death command thou to open, 

I care not by which I must enter therein, 
Only give heed to the wish that is spoken 

That urges release from this bondage of sin. 

HoAv oft in the hours of fancy and musing 

I soft to thy chambers did lonely repair. 
With thee as the theme of my mem'ry's choosing 

I visited thee dreaming and praised thee in pray'r; 
He who beseeches this gift of thy favor, 

And sends to thy altars such anguish of soul. 
Has been a fond pilgrim, whose journeys and labor 

Have brought iDut the billows that over it roll. 

Once I was full of the hopes of the morning 

And nothing could shadow my energies then. 
But now I am helpless and given to mourning, 

Oh, take me, and give me, that power again. 
Once I but followed the pathways of virtue 

Nor cared what opposers would seek to restrain, 
But now I have wandered apart from that nature, 

Oh, make me, and keep me, thy perfect again. 

Still will I hope for that mercy unfailing 

You taught me to cherish while happy and young : 
Which softens the sorrow and hushes the wailing. 

That over the spirit of the wretched is hung. 
Still I will pray for this gift of thy blessing 

And think as I render these wishes to thee. 
With every delightment the wonder possessing, 

Thy kindness has listened and granted my plea. 

All of my treasures thou keep'st in keeping 

The loves of my bosom that earlier were torn, 
Though in the grave they are silently sleeping, 

I know I shall see them when rises thy morn. 
Home of the jaded — bourne of the stricken, 

Joy of the weeper, and boon for the sigh, 
All of my footsteps immediately quicken, 

And let me at once to thy haven now fly. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 19 



HYMN. 

O Heavenly Father, King of Glory, 

Lord of all the low and high, 
Let Thy mercy hover o'er me, 

Let me to Thy presence fly ! 
Hear the song that chants the chorus, 

Swelling with a pride divine, 
Hear the praise begotten for us. 

Which is now but counted Thine. 

When the clouds are dark and lowering. 

When there roars the angry sea, 
Oh, then hear the thought uncowering, 

With all Thy love empower me. 
Though the storm in fierceness rages, 

Though the sky is grim to see, 
With that faith that never changes, 

Oh, let me look in love to Thee. 

And when the gates of bliss I enter, 

Where all is pure and all serene, 
How shall my soul the beauty centre, 

Where Thou art all the changeless scene. 
And while I dwell on earth supernal. 

And while I am what Thou wouldst be. 
Through all the time that is eternal. 

Oh, let me love and honor Thee. 



HYMN. 

While looking on the starry realms, 

What hosts appear, 
Which all my wonder overwhelms. 

And soothes the fear, 
That may arise before my sight. 

As there I scan 
The works of Him in all his might. 

Who moulded man. 

Then let my tongue no longer be 

The witness, still. 
But sound the voice of praise for Thee, 

And all Thy will; 
For as upon their range I gazed. 

All peace was mine : 
So faith regards the homage raised, 

As gifts for Thine. 



20 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



RECOMPENSED. 

Thou ! Avho doth gladden 

The sorrows we know, 
AVhen they may grow, 
To shadow or sadden, 
Give me that only charm, 
Healing the souFs alarm. 
Which as a soothing balm, 
Thou canst bestow. 

Tho' I am full of sighs, 
Tho' they may thrall, 
Tho' they may still appal, 

Fears to my eyes, 

Still in Thy love and grace, 

Warm with each tender trace, 

1 may a gift embrace. 

Consoling for all. 



BRIGHT LIKE THE DREAM. 

Fair as the dream — fairest 

Of all that could roam. 
Which in their shapes— bearest 

Visions of home. 
So would my token 

Go unto Thee ; 
Glorious and golden, 

Eternal and free. 

Dear as the dream — dearest 

Wish could impart. 
Which round the hope— nearest 

Lingers the heart ; 
So would my fancy. 

Winging to Thee, 
Ask of Thy mercy 

Immortal to be. 

Bright like the dream— brighter 

Than any could deem. 
Tinting the soul— lighter 

Than any could seem; 
So would my niemory. 

Seeking alone. 
Claiming in livery 

Thy image, my own. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 21 



O JOY! O HOPE! 

O Joy ! O Hope ! how sweet thou art, 

What chariu to think thee near, 
What peace to twine thee round the heart, 
And soothe the sigh or tear. 

Tliere is a blessing, from thee thrown, 

No other bUss can give, 
We rise to hear thy dulcet tone. 

And rising choose to live. 

Again the smile is summoned forth, 

From sorrow^s dark recess. 
We love to feel thy sacred worth, 

And to thy name confess. 

And yet beyond these ills we bear. 

We know you pure abound. 
We know you there, more bright and fair, 

In all delight are found. 

And when to there my soul shall fly. 
These thoughts that now are thine, 

Shall close the bounds that hide my eye 
And call thy riches mine. 



STANZAS. 

I look on the diamond with envy, 

Not that that I covet its blaze. 
But because it is ever so lovely. 

And its night is as bright as its days. 

And I think of a vision appearing. 
As pure and as bright as that gem, 

When this form that the human is wearing 
Shall be like a bud on its stem. 

For hath it no manner outliving, 
That spark of the substance of coal, 

Why then to my image breath giving, 
Why fashion its hope to a soul. 

And life would indeed be but cruel, 
Not less in the gift than design. 

If my soul could not rise as the jewel, 
In glory as brilliant to shine. 



22 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



HYMN. 

Pare as the sky, 

Ere morning departs, 
To liken the high 

But brilliant in parts, 
So will the soul 

On pinions arise, 
Leaving the lorn 

To say with their eyes. 
It has gone — has gone — has gone 

Unto that haloed height, 
Where countless looking on 

Will wait its ransomed flight. 

Bright as the west, 

Ere shadow and cloud. 
Over its crest 

Are gathered and bowed, 
So will the soul 

In spirit take wing, 
Unto that bourne 

While Angels will sing. 
It is come— is come— is come 

Unto those realms of love. 
Where God prepares a home 

To claim its share of love. 



HYMN. 

When death bids me to sever 

The ties that bind me here, 
And I am past the fever 

Of longing, sigh, or tear. 
Then shall my soul in beauty 

Seek Him who owns my dust, 
Where all His love is mercy, 

But all that love is iust. 

Then shall my eyes forgetting, 

The things they used to do. 
In brighter crownings, setting, 

Reflect the scenes they knew. 
And O! should sorrow o'er me 

Still on my mem'ry call, 
The immortal thought of glory 

Sustains me through it all. 



DEVOTIOWAL OFFERINGS 23 



BRIGHT WAS THE MORNING. 

Bright was the morning, not a shadow hung o'er me, 

As forth in its brightness I wandered and sang 
And thought of the journey so pleasant before me. 

So free from all prospect that augured a pang; 
I sauntered, I idled, abroad in its sweetness, 

No bird in the sunshine was as happy as I 
Nor gave a vain thought to the flight of its fleetness 

Till night like an omen loomed dull in the sky. 

I looked for the flowers that beckoned me onward, 

I looked, but my vision was vision alone : 
I looked for the faces that guided me forward 

To find to my sorrow all faded and gone; 
Oh, bright was the morning, alas I well know it, 

Yes. know it, to know it, forever to grieve, 
For the flush of that morning now deeper must show it 

To my soul and my mem'ry how cloudy the eve. 



OH ! MAKE ME TO KNOW THEE. 

Oh, make me to know Thee ! to know Thee as Thou 
Would have me enshrine Thee in calling and vow, 

Until all my soul shall become 
A temple of worship that to Thee I endow 

And nothing can sever Thee from. 

Through pleasure and sorrow, reverse and success, 
Through all that Thy spirit could bless, 

Let me from Thy counsel not swerve, 
But strengthened confirm that the power I address 

Is the power I love to observe. 

And when I am called from this vale where I dwell, 
The pseans of angels commingled to swell, 

Thy praise shall redound on my lips 
And all of my heart shall most rapturously tell 

Of the joy that all others eclipse. 

Then make me to know Thee— to know Thee as thou 
Wouldst have me announce Thee in glory just now, 

My only redemption to be. 
Until all the Avorld shall the reason avow, 

Of why I give homage to Thee. 



24 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



THE MOON. 

Thou moon that rolFst round, 

Eternal in the sky, 
You tell to me profound, 

Of something more than I. 

Of something more than aught 
Upon this puny earth, 

Where neither deed or thought, 
Could give thy being birth. 

You tell to me as now 
Poised in the noiseless air, 

A wonder mine art thou, 
To systems shaping there. 

You tell to me of space 

Invisible to the view, 
And of a special place 

Allotted but to you. 

The biggest, brightest star 
Must pale before thy light, 

Because to thee they are 
A twinkle in thy sight. 

And even the feathery cloud 
That flees before the gale. 

Takes of the fleecy shroud, 
When they thy splendor pale. 

Aloft thy quarter shows 
All objects dwelling near, 

And then thy crescent glows 
Still more majestic here. 

And when thy circles wide. 

The radius extends. 
What spirit and what pride 

Our vision upward sends. 

And yet, and yet, and yet 
You tell me more than this, 

Whereof I ne'er forget. 
Within that deep abyss, 

You tell to me, but hush 
Ye moods that would record, 

At last the feelings rush — 
You tell to me of God. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 25 



PSALM. 

Over the hoping heart 

Breaketh the plea, 
That doth the peace impart, 

Jesus, of Thee : 
When on Thy love we call, 
Calling Thee all of all, 
Crying before we fall, 

Oh, hallow Thy meni'ry to me. 

Then as the gentle wind 

Stilleth the sea. 
We from Thy presence find 

All that could be: 
And on the distant breeze. 
Tones like the sound of these, 
Echo the melodies, 

Oh, glory my worship to Thee. 

Then with the mental eye 

Forward, we see 
That bright bespangled sky 

Which must be Thee; 
Filling our gazing souls. 
With its unbounded scrolls. 
Till all our thought extols. 

Oh, let me immortal there be. 



PSALM. 

Pale— pale thou fading orb, 

Thou beacon of the night ! 
Take off thy glittering robe 

And take thy distant flight. 
What wonders of the universe 

B}^ day, by night are seen. 
Now broken is their converse, 

Now brilliant or serene. 

O God ! how great thv glories. 

The Author Thou of all; 
The heaveijs show Thy haloes 

Or shroud Thy clouding pall. 
The sun has its corona. 

The stars their different shine. 
The earth puts forth its manna. 

But all are numbered Thine. 



26 DEVOTIONAL OFFJERINGS 



TO THE SKY. 

O sky, imiDosing and abounding sky ! — whose martial 
aspect or serenest pomp, excites alike our homage and our 
awe, to thee is raised this census of a thought that calls its 
feehng thine. How matchless thy presence! How mani- 
fold thy excellence ! From blushing dawn, to blazing noon, 
or iridescent eve, thy beauties stamp their marvels on our 
hearts. Arched with the iris or the clouds, that pinion, and 
pennon thee below ; or when the storm convulses thee to 
change — thou art still the same, unrivalled in austerity 
or joy. 

Lo! a dye suffuses thee, a gentle shading dye. Thy 
mitre is withdrawn, and we see thee then an ocean full of 
isles, or as a desert where oasis on oasis lie to alphabet the 
sweep of time. From thy horizons to thy zeniths, you pre- 
sent a spectacle — transcendent in nobility — peerless in con- 
ception. Naught can vie with thee, for you are the acme 
of invention, a panorama of creation, and the archive of 
all our fancy. 

To honor thee is to reverence nature ; who could not 
look upon thee and be moved, or feel in thy unlettered 
blankness, or on thy frescoed face, you w^ere not sculptured 
as a dwelling-place of love : beyond the fineness of all 
earthly dreams. O sky ! whether beautiful or sombre, 
angered or calmed, restless or reposing, in thy majestic 
silence, or in thy fiercest throe, in thee we always see the 
sway of Him who first formed thee for man. 



THE WORLD WILL SOON FORGET THEE. 

The world will soon forget thee when thou art 'neath the sod, 
And o'er thy simple sepulchre the hurrying crowd will trod, 
Thy deeds will be forgotten, and thou alone shall lie, 
A thing of fleeting mem'ry, beneath the solemn sky. 

The world will soon forget thee, if humble was thy name, 
And thou hast left no tablet to hold the ear of fame; 
For 'tis the earthly fiat that everything must fade 
And perish as the portal from which t heir strength was made. 

The world will soon forget thee, if thou art dead and gone, 
And thine was not the power to send thy spirit on; 
The breast will cease to tremble, the eye forget to weep. 
And thou the breath of nothing thro'out the future sleep. 

The world will soon forget thee when thou art in thy grave. 
And o'er thy faults or virtues, the weeds of time will wave, 
But if by angel tokens thy name may treasured be, 
Tho' all the world forget thee, then they'll remember thee. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 27 



ODE. 

There is a God that I will own, 

A God no other can dethrone, 

His is alone the sovereign right 

To rule the world with peace or might, 

To Him I look when all is drear, 

And fancy Him my Keeper here. 

AVhen passion surges thro' my breast, 

And all but memory fled my rest, 

And patience is a proof no more 

Of what it was in trust before. 

His is the grace I woo to calm, 

My frenzied thoughts from every harm. 

When mercy shuns the pleading eye, 
And night sits brooding in the sky, 
And horror flits a fiend below, 
With all that urges grief to woe. 
His is the glance I then can claim. 
To banish doubt from every name. 

His face a beam of glory is, 
And all that's pure and soft is His, 
And every hope will Him declare, 
To be a fount of rapture wdiere 
A seraph might attune her lyre, 
And feel it thrill, a newer fire. 

When tempest, with a midnight moan, 
Looks lightning from its sullen zone, 
And thunders sporting in the air 
Confuse the ear with terrors there. 
Then Avould I picture in His love. 
Mine is the hope that dwells above. 

His is the joy that quickly cheers. 
The soul that to its pang adheres, 
And mantles o'er the darkened past. 
With things that have a rosier cast, 
O ! let Him come, and coming reign, 
And summon pleasure e'en from pain. 

O ! let this God engage thy soul, 
And ne'er again shall echo toll, 
Who will the glow of faith impart, 
That treasures duty round the heart: 
Who will on thee sinile from above. 
And spell thy name with truth and love. 



28 jyEVOTIONAL OFFJSRIWGS 



And when this breath must flicker faint, 
Before the hues that death will paint, 
And visions coming on in gloom. 
Awake the fear and shroud the tomb: 
Then would I fancy in His light. 
Mine is a place more high and bright. 



OVER THE YEARS TO HEAVEN. 



Over the years to heaven. 

Slowly I wend my way, 
To me but little is given, 

To lighten the passing day. 
But yet I can do that little 

With all the will of my soul, 
Trusting to God's acquittal 

To help me on to the goal. 
Over the years to heaven, 

I'm almost, almost there. 
Hear me, hear me, O heaven! 

And answer a wanderer's prayer. 
Weary of wilful erring, 

Lowly thy mercy I greet, 
Let me, O Master! sharing, 

Enter thy blest retreat. 



Over the years to heaven. 

No matter how many remain, 
A score or a dozen or seven, 

The end I am sure to attain. 
Then open thou glorious portal. 

Open nor shut behind, 
For I am a lonely mortal. 

Eager thy rest to find. 
Others also of my bosom, 

May long for that final abode, 
Then I can give them welcome, 

The greeting on me it bestowed. 
Or, as an angel missive, 

A dove of that sacred ark, 
I may offer the olive. 

Cheering the lingering spark. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 39 



HOW WASTED THE FL0WER9 

How wasted the flowers, 
How withered, how lorn, 

That once from their bowers 
Bloomed sweet to the morn. 

How shrunken their petals, 
How blasted their growth, 

To think they are mortals 
The fancy is loth. 

For virtue has fled them, 

And vice is the earth 
In which to imbed them 

In sorrow and dearth. 

Alas, for their uses! 

Alas, for their name! 
Crime harbors their juices, 

Guilt fashions their shame. 

Alas, the glow vanished! 

The lustre so shed. 
Their fragrance is banished 

And they are the dead. 

For turned from their duty, 
Ere honor has blushed. 

Decayed is their beauty, 
Their odors how crushed. 

O over them hover! 

O pity thy wing! 
And with thy grace cover, 

The nettles that sting. 

O pity! come nearer, 

Coiiie even and hide, 
O come! be the bearer. 

To heavenward guide. 

For Heaven shall gather 
Their blooms and restore, 

In the love of the Father, 
Who knows what they bore. 



30 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



WEEP FOR THE FALLEN. 

Weep for the fallen, weep; 

Shed thou the pitying tear, 
For they who sadly keep 

The mem'ry dark and drear. 

Remember they are gems 
But tarnished in renown, 

A garden's broken stems 
By tempests battered down. 

But God shall set aneAV, 
His eye relight the blaze, 

And odors yet shall strew, 
The wastes of other days. 

Then weep for the fallen. Aveep, 
Who feel the sorrowing tear. 

And in their souls must keep 
That echo's haunting fear. 



THERE CAME TO MY DREAMS. 

There came to my dreams a picture fair 
Of a maiden's face in her sweetness there: 
And then the picture changed, 1 saw, 
For sori-ow marked it more and more. 
For maids must trust and maids must love 
Tho' the trust and love both falsely prove. 

There came to my dreams another scene, 
Of a mother's brow and a father's mien, 
And I linked the two to the maiden child 
That on my dreams from the vision smiled. 
For hearts must break and break again 
To the loads of care and the floods of pain. 

And over the past 1 distant looked, 
And the sight 1 saw my pity shooked. 
For a wretch I saw or at least it seemed, 
A sin of the past was now redeemed. 
For saints must rise and angels fall 
But the Lord above keeps watch on all. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 31 



THE ANGEL'S PRAYER. 

A saint stood on a mountain, 

Where lands stretched far and wide. 
A saint stood on a mountain, 

And pity by her side; 
She looked upon the valley, 

She looked upon the mount. 
Where many a budding lily. 

Lay blasted at the fount. 

Her head and eye uplifted, 

A tear was in her eye, 
And as that jewel sifted. 

Her bosom dropped a sigh; 
She waved a wand of beauty, 

'Twas lustrous and serene, 
She waved a wand of beauty. 

And sighed the Magdalene. 

God grant thee absolution, 

And grant thee grace to purge 
From all the vile pollution 

That evil passions urge; 
No — not upon thy folly 

Shall future judgments fall. 
But on the thought unholy, 

That draws thee to its pall. 

Why should you, robbed of virtue, 

That was thy all to thee. 
Endure the doom of nature. 

While baser sins go free; 
Why should not time eternal 

Reverse the stern decree. 
That makes them not infernal, 

Yet makes a fiend of thee. 



And reason unto justice, 

Then answered, with a vow. 
Behold the equal promise 

That binds the witness now; 
And Heaven in contrition, 

And Heaven watching there, 
Heard that saint's petition, 

And crystallized that prayer. 



32 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



THE PRAYER OF THE PARIAH. 

A mortal bent over the dark running stream 

That swept by the bridge with a sigh, 
And murmured the prayer like the moan of a dream, 

O give me Thy peace w^hile I die! 
Tho' spurned by the world that is quick to despise, 

And wearing the brand of its shame, 
I know there is hope if in dying, my eyes 

To my bosom but echoes Thy name. 

A splash and a cry like the wail of a soul, 

Lost — lost to the rites of the priest, 
And the billows once more without rippling roll, 

And the fishes have gathered to feast; 
But the Angels of Heaven, Avho holy have listened 

To the heart by its sorrow bowed down. 
The words of that outcast to pity rechristened, 

And moulded those tears to a crown. 

And who shall not say, ere the spirit departs, 

Ere the body has yielded its ghost. 
That hope may not bloom in the hardest of hearts, 

Whose virtue and honor were lost; 
For so will the soul from the ruins of earth, 

When life can no longer be for thee, 
Ascend to the scenes of its noblest birth, 

And burst like a flower in glory. 

O COME TO THE FESTAL! 

O come to the garden! where the roses entwining. 
But breathe of their fragrance beseeching for you. 

O come to the land! where the sun ever shining. 
Shines Avith a beauty resplendent to view. 

'Tis the bower of pathos for the children of error, 
Redeemed from the life that was folly and gloom. 

Where nmsic enchants the delight of the sharer. 
And flowers but blossom to richly perfume. 

O come! then, prepared to enjoy in its pleasure, 
O come! then, prepared to exist in its realms; 

For there is a fountain and there is a treasure 
That all of the fancy with wonder overwhelms. 

And then you shall witness the Star of the morning 
Arrayed in the robe of His splendid renown. 

Beset with the gems that its purple adorning, 
Reflect of the glories that lie in the crown. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 33 



I BRING. 

I bring Thee, Lord, a token 

Of other days gone by, 
'Twill speak, for it has spoken 

Of many a tear and sigh; 
I bring, — canst Thou receive it ?- 

What I am quick to part. 
I bring, — canst Thou relieve it ?- 

I bring a bleeding heart. 

I bring Thee, Lord, a favor 

Of later years to come; 
I bring Thee, Lord, the labor 

That finds in Thee a home. 
I bring, — O canst Thou bear it ? 

And canst thou keep control. 
With all Thy glory share it,— 

For 'tis a happy soul. 

Yes, these are now the pledges 
I iDcar to Thee as Thine, 

! may they be the wedges 
To teach me how divine; 

And tho' some are in manner 
More high than mine can be, 

1 know that Thou wilt honor 
These little gifts from me. 



HOW. 

O Thou ! Avhom we worship, 

O Thou! all divine, 
How sacred the kinship, 

Between Thee and mine; 
How potent Thy power. 

How blissful Thy reign, 
When to the hour. 

Thou comest again. 

When from our presence 

We think Thou art gone. 
And mourn the sad absence, 

That leaves us alone; 
Then to our labor 

Of hope through the trial, 
How welcome Thy favor, 

How pleasing Thy smile. 



84 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



IN SOME MORE HAPPIER SPHERE. 

In some more happier sphere 
Than this of life so drear 
O let me dwell! 
Bidding what I knew farewell. 

Canker and grief are mine, 
Peace but a fleeting shrine, 
Then let me fly 
And hide my weeping eye. 

Joy I but felt to fade, 
Pain Avas too heavy laid, 
And hope a sepulchre 
Without one flower there. 

To some more happier sphere 
Than this of sadness here 
Let me Ofly! 
And cease this mourning sigh. 



THOU STAR— THOU STAR. 

Thou star, thou star that lingering yet 

Within the heaven's blue, 
Oft have I watched thee 'mid the jet, 

And wondered at thy hue. 

The herald thou of other realms, 

So distant to the sight, 
I look upon thee in my dreams, 

And fancy thee all light. 

I would not care to always be 
A wanderer from thy sphere, 

But take abode at last with thee, 
From all that crowded here. 

My spirit bounds to meet the thought, 
That thro' the soul will grope, 

And every joy is blissful wrought. 
Exultant to the hope. 

Serenely o'er the ways of life, 

O let my steps be trod! 
Until I reach thee free from strife. 

And own thee as my God. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 35 



A CURIOUS TALE. 

Kind stranger stop, a moment please, 
A beggar your indulgence sees, 

Some passing aid to crave; 
To help him on the dreary road. 
That has one sure and sad abode, 

And that the pauper's grave. 

A toper, no ! O look again! 
And if I look that curse of men, 

It is not from that shame, 
For I have felt a darker blot. 
And tears may make a wretched sot, 

And leave as red a flame. 

Something in the pleader's mood, 
At once so solemn and subdued, 

Urged me to comply. 
And further see what he might say. 
And learn the histry of the day, 

That gave so deep a sigh. 

And, then, beside, the stormy night. 
The biting wind so full of spite. 

And angry beating rain, 
Might tempt a less humane than I, 
To hear and answer such a cry, 

Nor yet his tale disdain. 

And so I gave my pittance there, 
Into his palm, so thin and bare. 

When, with a courteous bow. 
He said he hungered had for days, 
Nor had the means to close his gaze, 

Except this trifle now. 

But there are worser pangs than these. 
To hungry go, and coatless freeze, 

Are nothing to the heart, 
That must in silence cherish deep. 
The torment of a woe no sleep 
Can soften or depart. 

I loved a, maid, and she loved me. 
And we were happy as could be. 

For ours was hol}^ love; 
And in our hope we waited for 
The proper time that would be o'er, 

To claim the will above. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



Long we loved, and loving longed 
To be to each as we belonged, 

In wedlock as in name; 
And every trial we had to meet, 
To conquer for each sake was sweet, 

Because we felt the same. 

But time sped on and gathered not, 
The little that 1 should have got, 

To make our marriage home. 
For I bestowed from out my store. 
Upon the needy, sick, and poor. 

As fast as it would come. 



And she who was the same in birth. 
Yet far above me in the worth. 

That does in talent lie. 
Decreed at last that we must end. 
The friendship of the more than friend. 

Bound by so sweet a tie. 

For she was young, and had the arts, 
That win the' captive sinners' hearts, 

To beauty, grace, and song, 
And many worshipped at her shrine, 
And owned her as the one divine, 

To which all gifts belong. 

She said her duty called her to 
A wider field, her work to do. 

Which was the will of God, 
And that I did not fitted seem, 
To be the one that could redeem, 

Her life as its reward. 



She called upon some former vow 
Of mine to grant this favor now, 

To show my honor true. 
For she was titled in a sect, 
That had the Christian world's resi)ect, 

And I was (Christian too. 



O God! the throes as I recall, 
That held me then in bitter thrall, 
I never can forget; 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 37 



For many days I thought my mind, 
Was hke a fear in hell confined, 
Of anguish and regret. 

I gave her up, for still I loved, 
And joying in the promise proved. 

That would not give her pain. 
To wonder on the fearful change. 
And ever think it passing strange, 

Nor daring to complain. 

And though to me it was a wrong. 
That time intenser must prolong, 

And bitterness has nursed, 
I could not from my righteous soul, 
That still must glory o'er the whole, 

Wish our fates reversed. 



Year on year, I bravely bore, 
To stem the torrent of the war, 

That seemed so hard to bear, 
But memory upon me grew. 
Until at last as seen by you. 

It drove me to despair. 

Of her, at last, I dare not think, 
For 1 must from the ordeal shrink- 

The rod, too great to kiss, 
And oh ! my God, how could it be, 
Of she, the one, so dear to me. 

To meet an end like this. 



And now, he said, my tale is done, 
I thank you for the care it won, 

And will your welfare pray. 
Saying which he ambled off. 
Between a shudder and a cough, 

And went his piteous way. 

And as I pondered on his past. 
To fancy all it did contrast. 

Of seeming good or ill, 
I wondered if it was ordained. 
As Heaven has for mercy strained, 

The best Almighty will. 



38 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



HAST THOU. 

Hast thou known sorrow, 

The sorrow that pines, 
Leaving its echo, 

And marking its lines ? 
Then 1 can tell thee. 

Though it repine, 
That which befell thee 

Such sorrow was mine. 

Hast thou done error, 

The error that grieves, 
Flooding with terror. 

And all it conceives ? 
Then I can tell thee. 

Though it repine. 
That which befell thee 

Was even as mine. 

Hast thou bid weeping 

Flow from the heart, 
Every drop steeping 

Deeper the smart ? 
Then I can tell thee. 

Though it repine. 
That which befell thee 

Has also been mine. 

But wouldst thou be given, 

Joy for them all 
A something from Heaven, 

No grief can appal ? 
Then I can tell thee 

Such joy is now mine, 
And that which befell me 

Can ever be thine. 



ONE KIND WORD. 

One kind word, had it been spoken, 

One kind word, had it been said, 
Years of sorrow had been broken, 

Hovering clouds that Avere had fled. 
One kind word, the memory falters 

As its pass the moments gird. 
Of the grief, from hearths, and altars, 

O'er the loss of one kind word. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 39 



O COME! THOU, AGAIN. 

O come! thou, again, thou fast-fleeting spirit, 
That 1 from my fancy sent hither in scorn, 

come! thou, again, come thither, come near it, 
And bask in the welcome that deems thee its morn. 

1 mourn the intention that widened our parting, 
And grant thee thy wisdom was gracious and wise. 

So come, tliou, again ere my breath is departing. 
For I am unfitted to go to thy skies. 

O come! while the prayer of love I am pleading, 

O come! while the hour makes ready to come. 
For over the distance I see thee receding, 

And I have no refuge to call it my home. 
O couie!— come again, why leave me to languish. 

Why leave me in sorrow forever to dwell, 
When, thou, canst overcome this pang and this anguish 

That over my spirit brings visions of hell. 

Tlie door is wide open that closed thee admission, 

The pride is now humbled that boasted its reign, 
And sigh and tear echo with all their submission, 

With all of thy mercy come quickly again. 
Then, O come again to my soul so forsaken! 

O come! thou, again and this bosom allay, 
And coming bring joy to the hope you awaken, 

And in thy soon coming, come willing to stay. 



LIKE A TERRACE OF GLORY. 

Like a terrace of glory the cloud was reposing, 

Beyond was the azure, below was the sun, 
And day in a vision of splendor was closing 

Tho' yet in the distance the features were dun. 
All golden and glorious, the sun in its setting. 

Illumed with a brilliance that dazzled the eye. 
To take from the longing the pang of regretting. 

To think that its hour of parting was nigh. 

I dwelt on the hnage so fondly in gazing 

That all of my soul with the rapture was charmed. 
And thought soothed the fear that its anguish was raising 

To feel that the beauty the darkness had calmed. 
And I have deemed death as that garb of enchantment 

Entwining my bier with the glow and the wreath, 
And fancy can picture that spirit's advancement 

With a halo above it and a mantle beneath. 



40 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



WITH FLEETING WING. 

With fleeting wing the shadows flee 

Before the dawn of day, 
And those that were so dark to see 

Are scattered far away. 
Though overhead the sky is clear, 

And all the space around, 
Some trace of those that darkened here 

Are yet distinctly found. 
And this should teach me not to shun 

The dangers that may be, 
Although they may not be begun 

Nor palpable to me. 

On fleeting wing all terrors fade 

Before Thy cheering smile. 
Who crowneth with the changing shade 

And blesseth with the trial. 
As clouds will linger round the sun 

The more their charms to see, 
O let my talents mingled run 

And tarry close to Thee! 
For while my mind can votive link 

And while Thy face can shine, 
Still will my thoughts Thy rapture drink 

And count their glory Thine. 



CALM AS THE CURRENT. 

Calm as the current that onward flows 

Thro' all the broadening lea, 
O let my spirit breast its woes, 

And calmly flow to Thee! 
Tho' bars and reefs would check its course 

And deltas dare impede, 
O let me cherish yet the source 

That I in Thee have need! 

Calm as the current that onward flows 

TJnto the broadening sea. 
So all my soul in fervor goes 

To flnd a sweep in Thee. 
Upon its stream tho' rocks be cast 

To hinder its repose, 
O let my passion still run fast 

Triumphant to the close! 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 41 



O HAVE YOU SEEN MORNING? 

O have you seen morning — gray, 
Come through the dawn ? 

While yet no open ray, 
Covered the morn. 

And yet in the distance, 

GHmmering so fair, 
The liglit of the morning, 

Was shining still there. 

O have you seen evening — fade ? 

Paling the sky. 
Yet was its lustre laid, 

Farther on high. 

O then let this teach thee ! 

No gloom to repine, 
For beyond all the shadow, 

Some glory may shine. 



ODE. 

O earth ! how more than lovely 
Thou art at times to see. 

When shrouded in thy beauty, 
You taught this joy to me. 

The ocean is thy bosom, 
How calm you there reside. 

Or now the breeze in freedom, 
Will ruffle uj) thy pride. 

The clouds they are thy turrets, 

So noble and so fair, 
To soothe the weary spirits, 

Who may be looking there. 

We welcome thee when solemn, 
Enchanted with thy spring. 

We welcome thee when autumn 
Again thy grandeurs bring. 

The earth is all a bower, 
For virtue's feet to trod. 

The earth is like a flower. 
And all the earth is God. 



43 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 

PURE BE THY DWELLING. 

{To a sacred memory.) 

O pare be thy dwelling ! thou enchanter of earth, 
AVhen the portals of heaven shall give thee thy birth. 
For thou art no dweller eternal in this, 
And thy home is that haven of freedom and bliss. 

Then pure be thy dwelling from the shadow and gloom 
That hovered around thee and augured thy doom, 
When storm and when slander frowned on thee below, 
And brought to thy bowers their torrents of woe. 

Yes pure be thy dwelling to never repine, 
The light that with glory effulgent will shine, 
And may the sky flower and the earth ever bloom, 
And the scents of the harvest bring thee their perfume. 

O pure be thy dwelling ! when thy image has flown, 
To the tomb of its resting in the home of its own. 
And there as an Angel may thy sorrows all sleep, 
And thy spirit forget that it knew how to weep. 



O TEACH ME TO NAME THEE! 

O teach me to name Thee ! to name Thee abroad, 
With every preferment befitting a Lord, 

Wherever I wander and go, 
So I may be able to handle the sword, 

'Gainst those who deride Thee below. 

Yes teach me to name Thee, unawed to the hosts. 
Who revel Thy name with the foulest of boasts, 

Refuting— confuting to Thine, 
For I would the champion 1be of Thy coasts, 

So teach me with power divine. 

O teach me to name Thee ! throughout Thy domain, 
With justice asserting the good of Thy reign, 

And Thy temple with trophies to flood, 
Tho' the battle beams pour on the fields of the slain, 

And earth were a vessel of blood. 

Yes teach me to name Thee, with glory to Thee, 
Which even in Heaven an honor may be. 

To he who this virtue now claims, 
Where all of the seraphs applauding shall see, 

I made it the first of my names. 



DEVOTIONAL OFJ^ERINGS 43 



HYMN. 

High as the mountain 
That stretches above, 

All of the valley 
And all of the grove, 

O let nie tower ! 

A mark of Thy power, 

Each coming hour. 

Finding my glory in Thee. 

Pure as the fountain 

That gushes so clear, 
Over the pebbles 

And over the mere, 
O let me wander ! 
O let me ponder ! 
Yonder and yonder, 
Finding my guidance in Thee. 

Sweet as the breezes 

That carry the scent, 
Unto the castle 

And unto the tent, 
O let me odor ! 
O let me hover ! 
Heaven's aroma. 
Finding my sweetness in Thee. 



HYMN. 

O death ! thou false terror. 
The sparer of none, 

Tho' fear and tho' error 
Thy wisdom would shun, 

Why should we tremble 

To covet thy mantle. 

Since you but assemlDle 

All kingdoms in one. 

O death! when thou cometh, 

When I cannot stay, 
And all my soul goeth 

Thy call to obey, 
Guide thou my spirit flight 
Take off the veil of night. 
And to that azure height 
Bear me away. 



44 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



PSALM. 

When comes the hour, 

That bids nie depart, 
Life from its power, 

Hope from the heart, 
Over my shadow 

Another will fall, 
Whose motion shall echo, 

In glory go bloom. 

Then will this innnortal. 

Proud of its prize, 
Burst through the portal 

Screening the skies. 
Crying, Jehovah, 

I come to Thy call. 
Where the blest hover. 

Surveying the tomb. 



PSALM. 

Come, come thou mighty power, 

Come shed thy beam. 
Bright like the fairest flower 

Over my dream, 
Till I am a part of thee. 
Till in my soul but thee I see. 
For I would now the channel be. 

Fixing thy stream. 

Spring, spring exalted hope, 

Spring up above, 
Where is thy fitter scope. 

Based on its love. 
Warm with each true desire. 
Let me thy name respire. 
Let me thy deed aspire, 

More and more of. 

Then rest then thou spirit, 

Aljide in the heart. 
Which by thy merit. 

Never shall i)art, 
But loving thy praise to proclahii, 
And winning for thee a name. 
Which shall the truth exclaim, 

Telling thy art. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 45 



FOLLY'S LAMENT TO VIRTUE. 

where are the riches you gave me? 
I cry as I vainly implore 

For thy grace and thy mercy to save me, 
And again of thy gifts to restore. 

But, alas, for the fervor of wanting. 

It softens no tear or no sigh, 
And the things that I crave of thy granting 

But pass me now mockingly by. 

You clothed me in richest attire. 
Set a staff of delight in my hand, 

And the gems that were blazing with fire 
The finest that coffers command. 

My eye was a temple of wisdom, 
My tongue was a master of lore. 

And many then courted my bosom. 
That shunned as a beggar before. 

But, alas, for the vainness of power, 

Alas ! for the glories we boast, 
For weakness creeps in in an hour, 

And all but the shadow is lost. 

1 gave without fancy or thinking, 
Gave freely to all that appear, 

And often the meed of such linking 
Was the fool is but fit for a sneer. 

In a moment thy favors had banished. 
In a moment I turned to despair, 

And the tokens my raiment had garnished. 
Were laid without sacrifice there. 

The jewels that never were tarnished, 
That never gave lustre to shame. 

The halls of the evil have burnished, 
And brightened their guilt by their flam©. 

The talents I ought to have hoarded. 
Have vanished like mists on the air. 

The festal and revel have squandered. 
And passion has made them its lair. 

The light of my brilliance has faded, 

I stand in the ruins alone, 
A mark of ambition degraded. 

And all but the memory gone. 



46 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



JUST LIKE THE BREEZE. 

Just like the breeze that whither roves 

Upon the breaths of spring, 
To bear the scents from fields and groves, 

For love to praise, and love to sing. 
So would I ask of Thee, O God! 

Who all the world controls. 
To let Thy spirit spread abroad. 

And croAvn the joy that is the soul's. 

Just like the breeze that onward flies 

Before the summer clime, 
To scatter smiles without the sighs, 

That mark a later change and clime. 
So would my thoughts their incense bring. 

While yet in fullest bloom. 
And as their music, wafting, sing 

Of hopes without decay or doom. 

Yet as the breeze when autumn hues 

Upon the leaves appear. 
And broach of harvest's golden dues, 

For toil to reap, and garland here. 
So would my soul when life is o'er, 

When wish no more can roam. 
Die as the breeze from fancy's shore, 

And seek in Thee a home. 



IN THAT BEYOND. 

In that beyond which lies afar, 

Beyond the range of light to pierce. 
But which comes near as is the star. 

When thought has tamed its fancy fierce. 
I wonder shall this mind decay, 

This eye refuse the tear it knew, 
And all we think or we survey. 

Be to our dreams as something new. 

Shall we no more the ardor feel. 

That once filled all desire's breast, 
Or change the kiss so wont to heal, 

The lips that wished no sweeter rest. 
But no — no — no, it cannot be 

That earth alone our scope entombs. 
Or that the spirit is less free. 

Which to the soul immortal blooms. 



DEVOTIOWAL OFFERINGS 47 



APOSTROPHE TO THE SUN. 

O Thou ! and only thou, so tempered in subUmity ; 
The imperious courser that across the sky, now flies in fire, 
Or anon in gloom : when pitying- clouds — tliy frosted 
Breaths, would screen thy dazzling presence, and give back 
To earth again that which thou drink'st from her laps: — 
To thee we lift our eyes, and give the homage of a vassal 
To their prince. AVorlds have their source in thee, and thou 
Art that One, to which all rivals bow. Time is made by thee, 
And thou art, that king of majesty, the dial of infinity. 
Whose dominion none dispute. Thou art the giver of 
All we need —the luminary of love, and the pendant peerless. 
Nature's self is seen in thee, all beauties come from thee; 
And thou art matchless in thy power, and in the use 
That power yields. From thee the seasons come, 
And all splendor mounts with a loftier wing. 
Thou art the discoverer of realms unseen, 
The traverser of space, that hath no limits. 
Nothing is hid from thee, for thou art, the lense 
That sees and opens all. Where thy wings extend, 
There is brightness; and where furled death holds its sway. 
To rest thou goest, and from rest returnest. Thy smile 
Is welcoming, and thy frown fearful in severity. 
Rich and lavish are thy robes, the affinity of earth and 
Heaven, wonder with worship. Life is thy follower, the day 
Thy son— night thy daughter— and the moon thy bride. 
Knowledge calls thee the conqueror of darkness, from 
Whence all systems sprung. But we who have the range 
Of faith; and seeth with the spirit farther than the skill of 
Science: know thou art the gift of Him, who saying let there 
Be light, focused from His will the blaze of thee. 



NO NEVER AGAIN. 

If ever my heart could be made to believe. 
That it was not formed to its nature deceive. 
How happy I'd be despite all the pain. 
But it cannot, it cannot, no, never again. 

If ever my heart could its sorrow unfold. 
And tell to the world as its lessons were told. 
How bright would the future in promise remain. 
But it cannot, it cannot, no, never again. 

So I sigh in my anguish, Oh ! never again. 
Can I ever solace my heart in its bane. 
And perhaps, thou wise God, 'tis a finite decree, 
To teach my proud spirit the goodness of Thee. 



48 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



WAKE, MINSTREL, WAKE I 

Wake, minstrel, wake, my slumbering heart, 

Wake, too, the sacred chord. 
And let thy strain the numbers start 

That breathe the name of God; 
And let thy strings in echo sound 

Some tender song and sad, 
For in that balm of mem'ry found, 

I would my soul be glad. 

Hush, minstrel, hush, that blissful tone 

I cannot bear to hear, 
For round its notes are quickened thrown 

Joys far too sweet and dear; 
And if 1 bid its voice be o'er, 

Nor breathe that name again, 
It is because it charms no more. 

Now, minstrel, close thy strain. 

AS GLEAMS THE STAR. 

As shines the sun among the clouds 

That round it will appear. 
When morning dofifs its evening shrouds 

And falters feebly here. 
So will the light of glory shine 

On every scene of dearth. 
When guided from that source divine, 

A halo o'er the earth. 

As gleams the star above the Avave, 

Though darkness runs below. 
And trem])les as its beams will lave 

Those depths without a glow ; 
So does the love of Jesus stream. 

On every place of gloom, 
A ray of joy to every dream. 

And halo o'er the tomb. 

WHEN DARKNESS STILLS THIS FEEBLE 
THOUGHT. 

When darkness stills this feeble thought, 

And mind no more in flow can link, 
The scenes that were from homage wrought. 

The name, the deed, of God to think, 
Then will my heart unwearied rest, 

Then will my thoughts at last rej)ose 
In that abode that cahns the breast. 

Where every grief that was wmII close. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 49 



When quiet clothes this weary breast, 

With peace it never knew before, 
When all that would disturb its rest, 

Or chafe, or start, can wound no more. 
Then will my soul unmounted rise. 

And rapture swell with joy to see, 
This kindled heart, these glowing eyes, 

Burst thro' the shade and call their spirit free. 

NO! CALL ME NOT. 

No ! call me not, no earthly mortal 

Tethered to this puny sphere, 
Where no spirit or no portal, 

Frees me from my reigning fear; 
Rather let my souTbe numbered 

With that realm much more divine, 
Where the thought is unencumbered, 

And the eyes unclouded shine. 

That alone can calm my sorrow, 

That alone my hope can cheer, 
That alone redeem the morrow, 

Sought for, found, but fruitless here; 
Shades of glory there will gather 

Round the splendor of its throne, 
Where the Saviour and the Father, 

Claim the weakest as their own. 

I'LL STILL, REMEMBER STILL. 

My harp, my harp, how oft I've strung 

Thy gentle chords to song, 
And thou has cheered me sweetly. 

And thou hast cheered me long ; 
But now I lay thy form aside, 

For now thy use is o'er, 
For in my bosom sinks my pride. 

And music soothes no more. 

Thy God — my God— deserts me, 

And I am left alone. 
Then let thy echoes slumber, 

And silent be thy tone ; 
Farewell tho' I'll regret thee, 

And all thou once did fill. 
Though other harps forget thee, 

I'll still, remember still. 
4 



50 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



OVER THE PAST. 

Over the past how memory flies, 
Over the past how many ties 
Link us to visions that pleased before, 
Visions of pleasure that please no more. 

Over the past what mem'ries wait, 
Mem'ries of gladness, mem'ries of hate, 
Feelings of sorrow, and pangs of despair, 
Linger still faintly tho' potently there. 

Over the past is a bridge of sighs, 
Over the past what shadow lies. 
Over the past what colors stream, 
Flowing with beauty or dimming a dream. 

Over the past what footsteps wend, 
To follow a mirage or follow a friend ; 
Over the past what wishes we yearn. 
To end alas! in the empty urn. 

Over the past what garlands fall, 
Over the past what voices call. 
Over the past what pleadings stray. 
Groping alone thro' a lonely way. 

Over the past what fancies are led, 
Over the past what tears are shed, 
Over the past what pages we write. 
Pages that darken, or pages of light. 

Over the past could our longing restore. 
What would we give for that time once more. 
Over the past the ruins that strew, 
Tell of the fickle, tell of the true. 

Over the past we lingering dwell. 
Counting the echoes we cannot tell ; 
Over the past our passions are awed. 
For over the past is the care of God. 



AS OPE'S THE BUD. 

As opes the bud to morning's ray. 
Ere yet its brilliant blooms. 

And nature seems another day. 
Awaked from sleeping tombs. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 51 



While yet the dew is on the grass 
And trembles from the bough, 

And on the lake the shadows glass 
The zenith's ruffled brow. 

So let my thoughts their hues expand, 
In shapes so bright and fair, 

That I, O Lord ! may deem Thy hand 
Already toucheth there. 



WHOLE-HEARTEDLY OR NEVER. 

When you're asked to do some favor 

By your neighbor in distress. 
And you think your idle labor 

Will that stricken mortal bless ; 
And if you deem him worthy, 

And you mean to heed his call, 
Oh ! do it very cheerfully, 

Or do it not at all. 

When in the contribution 

You deposit then your share, 
Believing the petition 

Has ennobled what you spare, 
Oh ! do it with a conscience 

That no doubting has in thrall — 
"Yes, do it with a pleasure, 

Or don't do it then at all. 

God wants no stingy penny 

When belonging to His due, 
And He'd rather not have any. 

Than the bounty gift untrue ; 
And whether large or little, 

Your deserts of duty fall, 
Oh ! give them, give them willingly^ 

Or give them not at all. 

He welcomes no reluctance 

From the higher or the low, 
And it's only Christian reverence 

That you to your Maker owe. 
Then what you do to merit 

The approval it may call. 
You had better do with spirit, 

Or it's not done well at all. 



53 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



COME WHEN THOU MAY ST. 

Come when thou may'st, thou ever shalt find 
A heart ever open, a feehng most kind ; 
A manner to welcome, a friend to adore. 
Whose niem'ry shall linger when passion is o'er. 

So sings the spirit, the calmer of love, 
That looks on the mourner from glory above, 
And beckons all sorrow to come unto Him, 
Where He in His mercy its shadow will dim. 

Come when thou may'st, I'm ever at home 
To those that will wander, to those that Avill roam. 
So come when thou may'st, you ever shall find 
A boon to the blessing, a joy to the mind. 

O why keep Him waiting so long and so vain ! 
O why keep Him pleading His kindness again ! 
For come as thou may'st, in sorrow or shame. 
The spirit thou find'st is ever the same. 

Come when thou may'st, thou ever must find 

Hope from My promise, peace passing kind. 

These are the echoes that thro' thee will soar, 

To soothe thee and cheer thee when custom's no more. 



WHEN MANKIND LEAVES THIS SHADOWY VALE. 

When mankind leaves this shadowy vale, 

Where all that was but is to die. 
Then to that sphere which naught can pale. 

His soul shall as an angel fly. 

On wings of joy his hope will spring. 
To meet the God that there does reign. 

And on his tongue the praise will ring, 
That makes him one of that domain. 

Then will his thoughts abound with peace, 
Then will his songs awake the charm, 

That thro' the future will not cease. 
And all liis past of sorrow balm. 

Then will his smile, no longer vain. 

Be seen in all its happier pride, 
And looks of love from Christ again 

Begem the crown He sanctified. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 53 



WHERE. 

The banquet halFs deserted. 

Its music long has fled, 
The flowers, too, are faded, 

And all their odors dead; 
Its lights have turned to shadows, 

The shadows into gloom, 
And all its silence echoes 

The echo of a tomb. 

Where are the wit and beauty 

That made its revels bright? 
Where is the maiden purity 

That dazzled in its light? 
Ask of the sorrow girted 

With many a wild despair, 
Where only death's averted 

To leave a torture there. 



In homes of mocking splendor, 
Hearts are steeped in care, 

Who once were the defender 
Of pity, love, and prayer; 

Now they flow in sadness. 
Now what mem'ries throng, 

Now they burst to madness 
To ever, ever long. 

But vain the wished-for healing, 

And vain is that belief, 
Hoping from the feeling, 

A changing to relief; 
For rest knows not the eriung, 

Nor mercy comes not near. 
And joy has nothing sparing, 

Soothing to their fear. 

Oh! hark then to the story, 

Ye ones who seek applause. 
And you who covet glory 
Above a heaven's laws, 
That they are happiest ever, 

Who in a Jesus trust, 
Thus keeping him to sever 
All that augurs lust. 



54 DEVOTIONAL OFFERWeS 



O COME AND ALL MY GLORY BE. 

O come and all my glory be, 
Thou dream of love I feel and see ; 
When gloom uplifts a glowering Aving, 
'Tis then I to Thy spirit cling, 
Or if it shows a baleful eye 
'Tis then I to Thy bosom fly. 

O come and all my glory be! 
"Who art the joy of earth to me ; 
For when the way of life bereaves, 
Thy memory still some solace leaves, 
And all is calm that swayed before, 
Because Thy name I do adore. 

And when I reach that airy height, 
Too far to meet the mortal sight, 
Beholding Thee whom none so fair, 
My soul will then the truth declare ; 
Charmed by the magic of the scene, 
Yea, Christ hath all my glory been. 



COME GENEROUS HOPE. 

Come, generous hope, come and impart 
Thy rapture to my trembling heart; 
Wake my thoughts to every glow. 
Till they none but Jesus know. 

Arm me with thy richest zeal, 
Bid me practise what I feel, 
Bid my songs in mercy flow, 
Evermore the friend of woe. 

Should I falter low in prayer, 
Stay this tongue with glory there. 
Fill the soul that looks to thee 
With the praise of charity. 

See the brow, how wan, how weak, 
Let me to that comfort speak ; 
Let me too the moods inspire 
With the faiths that never tire. 

And when life's vain day were o'er, 
And darkness is a fear no more, 
Let thy light abundant shine 
On the joy that then is mine. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 55 



THE NIGHT. 

O night— night— night ! stupendous and enchanting 
night, what is lil^e to thee ? The day more bright, more 
pleasing is than thou, but thine are charms that woo us 
to the wonderful ; where we feel thy beauties more than 
they that grace the name of day. See thy spangled vaults 
—lambent with the atoms of their depths ; tiara crowning 
all below. And the gleaming moon— thine own sweet mes- 
senger of hope— holding refulgence underneath. And the 
dappling clouds, those misty shoals that mottle space and 
shadow o'er the earth. 

Night— transparent, vivid night— so prodigal in splen- 
dor—what glory hath the night ! For all that fancy could 
depict or wish portray is here revealed. Night ! the mir- 
ror of the universe, whose marshalled hosts come forth 
with banner, sword, and shield, signalling, behold the 
galaxies of Heaven. Night ! 'tis the sleep of day— the 
dream of Nature— when she lights her airy lamps, and sets 
them watchers o'er her bed. 

Night— night— enlightening night ! thy very change is 
harmony ; and yet these starry constellations— this ebon 
fairyland— this tideless ocean— this crownless dome— this 
world-wide picture of the arch of space— matured in infinity 
—this unfathomed map of things above ; which all perceive 
but cannot pierce: mystic with its myriad orbs, com- 
panions of the myriads still, remote from them as they 
from us ; and this lustrous crescent, so silent yet so grand 
— even to those vapory billows foaming in their haloed 
heights : are all the handiworks of He we call our God. 



SHORT WAS THE HOUR. 

Short was the hour, not a moment was wasted. 
When over my spirit death shadowed its wing. 

When it bent to the waters that, if then but tasted. 
Had left it no power its mercy to sing. 

Not a moment was wasted to bring it deliverance 
From that which endangered its body and soul ; 

For life, like a giant, snatched hope from assistance, 
And made it secure from the billows that roll. 

O short was the hour, as death like a minion, 
Then flew from my bosom with many a sigh. 

And I felt the sound made by the flap of its pinion : 
Prepare for my coming, for the hour is high. 



56 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



WHERE FLOATS THE CLOUD. 

Where floats the cloud, 

Sailing- so fair, 
While the winds crowd 

And evening comes there. 
Dyed by the beams 
That under it streams. 
Its mission now seems 

To seek a new morn. 

Where floats the cloud, 

Over the sea, 
Over the proud 

And over the free ; 
Over the valley, 

Over the lea, 
On to the lily. 

Distant from me. 

So will the gale 

Of death to my soul, 
Bear to the vale 

I love to extol, 
Free from the shroud 
'Twill be as the cloud. 
Smiling and proud 

To seek a new bourne. 



FAITH. 

Faith — 'tis a feeling, 
Faith — 'tis a dream, 

Now over us stealing 
In every extreme. 

To some it is given 
As an idol or spell, 

Now making a heaven, 
Now doubting a hell. 

'Tis the awe of the simple, 
'Tis the urger of fate, 

Now raising the gentle, 
Or humbling the great. 

To vice 'tis a demon. 

To virtue a robe. 
It preaches the sermon 

That circles the globe. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 57 



EVEN SO. 

Watch, watch, the starry domes, 
So lustrous with their gems, 

Before their rival comes 
To show his diadems. 

Now night has lost its shade, 

Before the rising dawn, 
For by this blending made, 

A newer world is born. 

Tho' morning may the legions pale, 
That made the scene so fair. 

One star of all that noble scale. 
Still lingers brightly there. 

So does a Christ a beacon lamp — 
When other lights are past. 

Hold out to hope a mercy camp, 
The longest and the last. 



DID E'ER THE EYE. 

Did e'er the eye such wonder see, 
As streaming from the east, 

When morning comes upon the lea. 
And functioned like a priest. 

A royal robe it gayly wore— 

A dainty robe of blue, 
And this was crimson more and more, 

And then, 'twas scarlet, too. 

And then it stands a prince arrayed, 

In all its golden sheen, 
And blushes like a timid maid, 

Beneath her lover's mien. 

But now a frown is o'er it thrown. 
One moment there it rests, 

And then reveals its blazoned throne, 
And bares its naked breasts. 

So will eternity to the soul, 

With all its hues appear, 
One little cloud will o'er it roll, 

And then the day is here. 



58 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



LIKE YONDER BRIGHT STAR. 

Like yonder bright star, which alone in its glory, 

Aloft in the Heavens now glitters and shines. 
The power of God as a presence does awe me, 

And lead me to worship that greatest of shrines. 
The sky like a desert is bare of all lustres, 

Except that lone sentry so silent and white. 
Where all of my reverence in memory now clusters, 

To see this last vestige of shadow and night. 

For soon will the sombre give way to the brilliant. 

Soon will the zeniths, from the east to the west, 
The hues of the Aurora show clear and scintillant, 

As pure as a maiden oft wears in her breast. 
So, like my soul, when with umbrage overclouded, 

I turn to the blazing, Oh ! Saviour, in Thee, 
And tho' for a moment my heart is dark shrouded, 

I know to Thy coming all shadows must flee. 

Like yonder high star on the portals of morning, 

That heralds the dawning so radiant and bright. 
Even Thou the dull world with thy spirit adorning, 

Marks out the true pathway of beauty and light. 
And like its pure colors distinguished in splendor, 

That all of the firmament emblazons and glows, 
So will the hope that Thy promise doth render, 

Extinguish all others when tinctured by woes. 

HOLY PRAYER. 

O Thou exalted Being, visible in all things of earth, 
But mostly visible in the varying sky! Hear 
Thou, receive Thou, our answer for Thy plentedu^; 
Grace and mercy. For life we thank Thee, and 
For preservation from the meshes of temptation 
We bless the shadow of Thy holy name. Thy love 
Descends on us, and from us shall ascend the joy that 
Speaketh of our praise for Thee. Visit us in prayer, 
Teach us Thy pity for the erring, and to feel as feeling 
We would render to ourselves. All good is numbered 
From Thy works, which are faultless in their decrees. 
In the harvests we see Thy bounty, and in the storms. 
Even then the change, that harbors up the power 
Of Thy beneficence. O Thou art Etern, Thou all, 
Almighty God, and from Thy shrine, which shall be 
The reverent heart, we offer up the worship. 
Heralding Thy name o'er all. Grant us Thy blessing 
Now and forever. Amen. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 59 



GREAT GOD THOU ART. 

Great God Thou art a mystery, 

A marvel to my mind, 
In all I know of Thee and see, 

This wonder more I find; 
Where'er I look from zone to zone, 
I see but Thee and Thee alone. 

Look where I may upon the earth. 

The ocean or the brook, 
They plainly have from Thee their birth, 

And take from Thee their look ; 
And where Thy glories most abound. 
There is the thought of man profound. 

And when I scan that studded vault, 

By night as well as day, 
Which to behold is to exalt, 

I can but think and pray; 
My wish be allied to the hope. 
That I might fathom out its scope. 

And I will make then of my heart, 

A mountain and a sky, 
To tell of Thee in every part. 

And how I glorify; 
For on my soul all this engraves 
Its idol Thou and all it craves. 

Then draw me near in faith to Thee, 

So I may perfect reach 
The meed of truth You trust to me, 

And that to others teach; 
Then with this honor as my guide. 
What blessings shall it not provide. 

Think of the many now without 

Thy power and Thy love. 
Who mention Thee and but to flout 

Thy titled name above; 
But then, O God ! how must they feel 
If you as God thyself reveal. 

Imprint upon their barren hearts 

A manner all Thine own. 
Which every evil thence departs. 

To rear Thy holy throne; 
And then the world shall come to right 
As Thou ordained it from Thy might. 



60 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



To this, to this, we cry amen. 

We of Thy favored will. 
And well we know the worst again 

Can be accepted still; 
For that is Thy endowed decree, 
That those who seek may entered be. 

Within the ranks that never die, 

Nor any dangers thin, 
Within the realms that boundless lie 

Beyond the range of sin; 
Where all is peace as the reward, 
For those who follow Christ the Lord. 



SONG ODE. 



All praise to Jehovah, 
Whom nations discover 
To be the great Father 

That rules from above. 
Our voices are singing, 
Our homage is bringing. 
The rhapsodies springing, 

To glory Thy love. 

All honor to Jesus, 

All honor divine. 
For the praises most precious 

We tender as Thine. 

Then hush ye dark sorrow, 
That tinctures the morrow. 
To think of a shadow. 

Denying this claim. 
For mercy before us, 
And joy spreading o'er us. 
But echo the chorus, 

How hallowed His name. 

O power beatific! 

O vision so blest! 
Throw over this music 

Thy halo of rest. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 61 



LOOK! LOOK! 

Look! look! how from the east 

The God of morning springs, 
The herald of the feast, 

That day to danger brings. 
The shadows disappear 

Before his shining smile, 
And all the darkness here 

His cheery ways beguile. 

Long he was concealed 

In depths of rayless night, 
To trod the hidden field 

Of other paths of light. 
But now he comes again, 

More radiant than before, 
For slumber links the chain 

Of all his golden store. 

And as he mounts on high, 

See what splendor's cast, 
From out his brilliant eye, 

Upon the distance vast. 
And so may I for Thee 

The every changing brave, 
Rising Lord as he. 

Triumphant from the grave. 



I STOOD ALONE. 

I stood alone, no stranger came 

To soothe my deep despair, 
I stood alone in all my shame, 

And looked the guilty there ; 
And by me swept the idle crowd, 
And on me frowned the rich and proud, 
With never a thought upon my shroud, 

And this was in the city. 

I stood alone, no not alone, 

For to my spirit came 
A gentle voice I fain would own. 

As some sweet singer's name, 
And in my soul it fondly dwelt, 
And from its peace I richly felt 
My griefs, my shadows, quickly melt, 

And then I knew 'twas pity. 



62 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



TRIBUTE. 

It is here — it is here — it is here, 

The day — the day — the day, 
When to the closing year 

Our rites of love we pay; 
Fruitful it has been, 
Teeming with the mien 
Of Him, the sacred scene, 
AVhose name o'er all we hail. 

So round the festive board, 

And distant o'er the land. 
Let every spirit hoard. 

The goodness of His hand; 
Adding the praise. 
Of tokens and lays, 
For all His ways, 
Jehovah — Jehovah — the joy of the heart. 



CHRISTMAS CHIME. 

Behold the star is shining. 

And it is shining bright. 
Behold the star is shining. 

The herald of the night; 
Behold the pilgrims gather, 

From regions far and near. 
Behold the pilgrims gather, 

In solemn council here. 

Behold they bring the tributes, 

The gifts of age and youth. 
To justify the prophets 

Of wisdom and of truth; 
O hear the tidings ringing! 

Upon that wondrous morn, 
O hear the tidings singing! 

To say a child Avas born. 

O see the God of glory! 

Above the earth impearled, 
O read the peaceful story! 

That ruleth o'er the world ; 
Then welcome sainted stranger, 

Thy coming and Thy source, 
Whose cradle was the manger. 

Whose bier was the cross. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 63 

LIKE THE BIRDS OF THE DAWN. 

Like the birds of the dawn, that now whither will fly, 
To bathe their bright plumes in the hues of the sky, 
So would my soul to that region take flight, 
Where morning awaits it in beauty and light. 
Like the birds of the dawn, that will sport in the air, 
Because of the glory so charming and fair, 
So would my thoughts to that kingdom take wing. 
And bear to the spaces the echoes I sing. 

Like the birds of the dawn that will travel abroad 
To gather the gleanings the harvests afford, 
So would my power dominion the pride. 
To mount o'er the valley and skim o'er the tide. 
Like the birds of the dawn that will homeward repair, 
When the morning has faded and evening comes there, 
So would my spirit return when 'tis done, 
And rest in the honors its labors hath won. 

THE VALE OF MY VISION. 

O can you imagine a garden of roses ! 

Whose colors may vie with the hues of the sky, 
Whose petals, once opened, their beauty discloses, 

With charms that prolong the delight of the eye? 

O can you imagine a forest of cedars! 

AH fragrant with scents of the zephyr and dew, 
That float on the air with the manner of pleaders. 

Inviting their sweetness and freshness to you 

O then you have fancied the vale of my vision! 

The valley I covet, the valley I own. 
Ambrosial with odors that make it elysian. 

More rich than the incense that clusters a throne. 

'Tis Eden, dear Eden, my hope and desire, 
'Tis Eden, fond Eden, the pride of my breast. 

Where thought never more can a sorrow acquire. 
Nor the winds wiring a sigh from the billows at rest. 

O THOU! OF ALL GLORY. 

O thou! of all glory who ruleth the firmament, 

As never we knew it to be governed before, 
For never since science its order made permanent, 

Hath man to need worship Thy glory still more. 
It teaches our spirits of wonders amazing, 

Little deemed by the wonder that has not the eye, 
To fathom the powers that yonder are raising. 

The delights of Thy power aloft in the sky. 



64 DEVOTIONAL OFFBRINeS 



Vouchsafe to the language beseeching the witness, 

To bear to tlie darkened those splendors that shine, 
The eloquence needed established in fitness, 

To tell without halting their magics are Thine ; 
And then all the world, to acknowledge Thy power. 

Will fall at Thy feet at the sound of Thy name, 
Which told in the tempest, the snow, and the shower, 

With all of their ardor Thy grandeurs proclaim. 

BRIGHT BE THY BRIDALS. 

Bright be thy bridals, ye virtue, ye youth, 
In quest of the holy, in quest of the truth, 
For glory will darken, and vista will fade, 
And the hope that once blossomed in sorrow be laid. 

Bright be thy bridals, ye joy and ye dream, 
When fancy shall picture the vision ye deem, 
For thought can be broken, and treasure be gone, 
And the heart on awaking, be anguish alone. 

Bright be thy bridals, ye yearning, ye love. 

That looks from the earth to the purer above, 

For pledges may wither, and idols may fall. 

And that which has brightened then spread as a pall. 

O bright be thy bridals! O heaven! O soul! 
That place of thy coming, that sweetest-won goal, 
O bright be thy bridals! for no happier than thine. 
E'er went as a mortal immortal to shine. 



O DIDST THOU BEHOLD HIM! 

O didst thou behold Him! the lowly and sainted, 

Whose beauty exceeded the tints of the snow? 
Thy gaze had then witnessed a picture, if painted. 

Beyond all the colors the i)encil bids glow. 
O didst thou behold Him! the pride of the morning, 

O didst thou behold Him! the joy of the night, 
Thy wrath had detested the wretches, who, scorning 

Made him an idol to mock with their spite. 

O couldst thou behold Him! the angel of Heaven, 

Who sacrificed all for the sake of His love. 
Thy soul to His mercy had bountifully given 

Some heed to the warning that becks thee above. 
O couldst thou but see Him! the hope of thy vision. 

So sweet and so gentle yet mystic with awe. 
Thy heart would have echoed thy fancy's decision, 

The loveliest image thine eyes ever saw. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 05 



O FAIR TO SEE! 

O fair to see is the infant dawn! 

When it bursts to the hue of day, 
When the hngering shadows so darkly worn, 

Have passed hke dreams away. 

O fair to see is the face of night! 

With its myriad jewels there. 
The golden noon in a blaze of light. 

And the fields that the harvests bear. 

O fair to see is the smile of youth! 

And beauty's unconscious pride ; 
A maiden's blush in the pride of truth, 

Or the ocean's swelling tide. 

O fair is the sky! and fair are the clouds, 

And fair is the touch of death, 
And fair is the gilt on the heroes' shrouds, 

And fair is the bridal wreath. 

Fair is the lily, as fair the rose, 

And fair is the thought of love. 
And fair is the wind that sweetly blows, 

Wafting the song of the grove. 

But fairer still than all these are, 

Is a vision I've often dreamed, 
When my soul was bared to the Eastern Star, 

And its every sin redeemed. 

THERE'S NAUGHT, O GOD! 

There's naught, O God, alike to Thee, 

This much we fully prove, 
Who own the wonders that we see. 

And vow to Thee our love ; 
The stars that aisle the ordered night. 

Or flicker one by one, 
Confess the moon the lord of light, 

As this will to the sun. 

But none of all that greets the eye, 

Disputes Thy sovereign sway. 
They to Thy fiats but comply, 

And hasten to obey. 
Yet would I leave this fickle world. 

This world of bloom and blight. 
For that where every shade is furled. 

And only Thou art bright. 



66 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



YON, WHERE THE MOON. 

Yon, where the moon in silence leaves 

Her silvery trail behind, 
I find a solace hope believes 

To soothe the weary mind. 
See, now she sinks abroad to rest, 

In all her flooding light, 
Illuming too the latent west, 

That ere was garbed in night. 

Yet does she pause beyond the clouds, 

To take one fuller glance — 
The deed is done, she's pierced their shrouds 

And leaves the wide expanse ; 
So would my soul, when fading all 

Before the rising dawn, 
Burst thro' the bounds that seek to thrall, 

And greet the smiling morn. 

THE BURDENS, LORD. 

The burdens, Lord, are weary. 

That follow us in life, 
The days and nights are dreary 

And intertwined with strife. 

We wake from slumbers hoping. 
To find our dreams restored, 

But lo, our thoughts are groping 
And every wish abhorred. 

If we should bow in prayer. 

To deem no tempter nigh. 
Some echo trembles there 

And traces back a sigh. 

Yet should we not remember 
These shadows gild Thy name, 

And from the wavering ember 
May spring the quenchless flame. 

O take not wholly from us! 

These trials You prepare, 
But make them more become us, 

And patient let us bear. 

If we redeem these crosses. 

Not vainly we implore. 
For what we meet in losses. 

Thy mercies shall restore. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 67 



THE CLOUDS.* 

What so picturesque as the clouds ! the soft, reclining 
Clouds, terracing the stratas of the heavenly azure ; 
With every variety of hue and imagery. Naught on 
Earth are like to they, for they are, a rarity in 
Themselves, taking pattern after none, and when dissolved, 
Leaving no trace of former forms again. No bridal robe 
Could be arrayed like they, feathering the arches of 
Existence, or delicately winged, with all the finery 
Of the great material power. Continents and 
Islands, too, are they, and doves from the ark, whose 
Pinnacle is space. How genial ye are, dusting 
The expanses with thy grace, or how low ering you become, 
When, as a shroud, you stretch dense and solid over all. 
O thou art magical, O clouds! whether lovely to our pride. 
Or fearing to our awe: as the lustre of the sunrise, or 
The shapes, that to the sunset lend types of earth again; 
For ye are the billows of infinity, the ships of foam, that 
Rise from dew, and unto dew return; when other agencies 
Have played their parts with thee. Sequestered in thy 
Realms, what surpasses ye as excerpts from the rolls of time! 
Thou art the canopies of terrestrial temples, the whirlwinds, 
Steeds, and the chariots of the gods of war. The home of 
The thunder, too, art thou, and the lightnings shield, when 
Its vivid lances sceptre out the progress of the storm. 
Great and varied are thy ways, for thou art the temperer 
Of the sun, the sails of earth, that drive us onward in 
Our course: And the film of witchery that gives a 
Beauty to the moon. The sweeping wind doth muster. 



* Of the composition of "The Clouds," as also that of "The Tempest,'' 
which may be charged, and perhaps justly, with being surfeited with poetical 
conceits, and a poetical conceit if anything is simply a poetical exaggera- 
tion, the writer wishes it understood they are intended to represent the 
soliloquy form of the "Muse," and are to be distinguished f rom " The 
Visions," "The Apostrophe to The Sun." to "Tlie Sky." and to "The 
Niglit," which are of the declamatory order, and for which he offers no 
apology whatsoever. 

I mention tliis because there may be those, who too ready with a too nice 
discernment of the critical art, are only willing to attribute to the general 
design, any flaws in the inherent effects, and such an intention I wish to com- 
bat with all the ardor of a jealous author. I mention it too, because if they 
serve no other purpose than that of the moral and comparison, they are not 
without merit, and much can be forgiven them for tlie sake of the witness 
they bear to others. 

The difficulty of writing a limitless number of poems in a limited time, 
on any subject, of extended variety, and uniform degree, if not obvious in 
the attempt to the sceptical, will, I am sure, be quite convincing in theexecu- 
tiun.and while I am conscious a less hasty preparation liad resulted in the 
improvement of some of my efforrs, yet in the exchange of number for num- 
bers, I trust I have neither suffered the one, nor jeopardized the other. 



68 DEVOTION'AL OFFERINGS 



Forth thy squadrons in mighty compasses, and then 

Disperse tliem as the flocks, o'er which some sliepherd — 

Stands, tlie giant of the herd. In sable masses now you 

Come, the harbinger of wraths at hand:— thy ducts 

Are pierced, and thy floods descend to fill all needs 

Below. For ye are the bosoms of the sky, the reservoirs 

Of fluid forces, the smiles and frowns, of local 

Temperaments, the blush of day, the reflectors of 

The night, and the pillows of the stars. From thy 

Couch, the blasts are cradled, and the auroras 

Have abodes, softer than a mother's breast. 

Ye make the bai'riers of the ephemeral — the 

Ridges of phenomena, hither come, hither gone. 

The very gernis of creative elements, too, thou 

Art. And the representatives of terrene kingdoms: 

Tasselling, turreting. antlering, ornamenting, reefing, 

Shoaling, featuring, and painting the deserts of immensity: 

For where stretcheth thy pinions, there is sketched 

The profile of all things below. Ye are the 

Bubbles of antiquity, the evaporating envelopes, 

That measure out the sorceries of motion. 

And ye make the horizons of spanning altitudes, 

Tlie rainbows prisms, the vapor spouts of airy elevations. 

And the elastic formulas of all ordaining principles. 

We behold in thee, the galleries of the high — 

The authentic scales, that balance Earth and Heaven, 

The radiators of the light, the messengers of 

Diversity, and the tidal waves of risen vapors. 

That smile to weep, and weep to smile, more lovelier still. 

Now we see thee, edging the confines of concavity — 

Or then sweeping thy stately courses through the 

Vaults above, with all the order of an army's 

March, so wondrous, so varied are thy ways. 

And what are ye, but the warriors of the wind. 

Whose ranks but break and close to show thy leader's rage. 

How magnificent ye look, when on thy edges. 

The hidden sun, hath pencilled a golden border 

Round thee! What dark mysteries, what 

Visions of working Hells, thy abysses doth unfold! 

Ye make also, the mediums of the universe, the 

Roofs of all our nakedness, and if our rest above, 

Be as thy calm, how blissful shall we not be. To look 

Upon thee, is to admire, in rapture or in dread:— and 

To leave our observation with the thought, that from 

Nature thou comest, and to nature goest; and as 

Such as thou art, shall all others be, 

Excepting He, who conformeth all to Him. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 69 



THE SEaUEL. 

The devil caught a sinner, 

So the fable teaches. 
Caught him at his dinner, 

And caught him by the breeches-, 
But that wily creature, 

Who had a precious packet, 
Begged his wicked captor, 

To take him by the jacket. 

Then he slipped his freedom. 

From that easy garment. 
Leaving it a trophy, 

To the wrathy serpent ; 
The devil for his trouble, 

Found in it a locket. 
But missed a little Bible, 

In another pocket. 

Then taking it home with him, 

He gave it to a clerk. 
Saying it might fit him, 

Round about his work ; 
And now it is insisted — 

I know not how asserted — 
That half the souls in Hades, 

Have been thro' it converted. 



CHRISTMAS CAROL. 

Send forth the sacred song. 

And sound the carol wide. 
And to thy joy invite the throng 

This joyous Christmastide ; 
For Heaven sings 

The angel songs. 
While glorj' brings 

The One so sanctified. 

Call — call the rich and poor. 

The vain and haughty call, 
And on their selfish spirits pour 

The balm we see befall. 
Come — come ye hosts. 

Come join the throngs. 
Ye prides and boasts. 

And own Him king of all. 



70 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



LO— LO. 

Lo — lo the east is breaking, 

See the golden morn, 
List the wind from slumber waking 

Blow its scented horn ; 
Everything hath now a cheer, 
Brighter for these glories here, 
Seemingly to chorus clear. 

Hail — hail the morn. 

Lo — lo the east is breaking, 

Breaking o'er the tomb, 
And the sleepers there awaking, 

See a sun illume ; 
Scenes of splendor shining far, 
Crested by a single star. 
And the songs of worship are, 

Hail — hail the bloom. 



HUSH, LET ME HOPE. 

Hush, let me hope, that when I dream 

And from that spell I wake, 
For memory to woo the theme. 

Its fancy longs to take. 

Which is to of my spirit make 
A vision that will seem. 

The One to whom my thoughts I break. 
And find Him all I deem. 

Hush, let me hope ere twilight throws 

O'er me its darkening veil. 
That I my eyes may peaceful close 

Where glories never pale; 

Where never more the cloud or gale 
O'er me its shadow shows. 

But calm and bright I see the vale, 
That like a picture flows. 

Hush, let me hope when I must lie, 

In icy deaths embrace, 
That I may rise to yonder sky. 

Where former forms I trace, 

Who once beamed in my tearful face, 
The smiles that hushed the sigh. 

And I would hope that to that place, 
My soul might joyous fly. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 71 



AS WE THE THINGS OF GOD BEHOLD, 

As we the things of God behold, 

What raptures move the humble heart, 
To own the Lord that so can fold, 

His starry realms so far apart ; 
I long, I crave, with more than grace, 

To seek the charm of His abode. 
Where thought can find a fitting place, 

And love but wish to have reward. 

And looking onward to that scene, 

I know my coming waits. 
How hope looks on with joy serene. 

And pride its thrill of peace elates. 
Then will my soul its wings expand, 

Then will my tongue His praises call, 
And grasping bliss in either hand. 

Hail Him to love the One of all, 

WHEN SUFFERING MARKS THIS PLACID BROW. 

When suffering marks this placid brow, 
And I shall to its burden bow, 
Then o'er my heart shall softly steal. 
The thought of Thou that all can heal ; 
When anguish claims this lonely heart, 
And I from joy am loth to part, 
Then will Thy dream the charm awake, 
That from my grief the sting will take. 

When passion stirs this heated breast, 
And robs it of its sweetest rest. 
Then will I to that Saviour fly, 
To claim the peace I know is nigh ; 
Should folly seek to lure aside, 
My only hope from all its pride, 
Then will I to that refuge turn. 
And with His smile its counsel spurn. 

THE END IS NEAR. 

The end is near, the closing day 

Puts forth its feeble rays. 
And he that shone so bright a ray, 

Has lost his fiery blaze. 

Yet is the scene a scene to claim 

The heart's unchallenged pride, 
And color there the dormant flame. 

That hath no holier tide. 



72 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 

For as the day, so is the soul, 

A spark, a touch ignites, 
When death gives it its own control, 

And wings its higher flights. 

And like the cloud, that now does frown, 

On all the gloom beneath, 
So will my soul my relics crown, 

And wear the fadeless wreath. 

IMMORTALITY. 

I see thee not, I hear thee not. 
But I know that thou'rt there, 

In that abode which nought can blot, 
The shape I feel thou'lt wear; 

Space cannot hush the silvery sound. 
Nor close the prophet's eye, 

That comes to me with such a bound- 
That deems thy image nigh. 

Thro' all that marks the course of time, 

Thro' all where hope may soar. 
Thro' all that will this life sublime 

Or bid its dream be o'er ; 
Yet will my spirit wing its flight, 

Yet will it travel on, 
Unto that all eternal height. 

Where thou before hast gone. 

'TIS THEN I THINK THE LOVE OF THEE. 

Not in the hours of selfish pleasure, 

When joy alone the heart may claim. 
Do I my thoughts of Jesus measure, 

Or care to breathe His reverent name. 
But w^hen the day has gone and faded, 

And night looms o'er the land and sea, 
'Tis then my eyes from brightness shaded, 

'Tis then I think Thy love to me. 

'Tis then I think, with praises swelling 
All thro' my soul with holy pride. 

That peace at last is sweetly dwelling. 
Where once was war and naught beside. 

And this reflection goes to show nie— 
That had for this been quite forgot — 

How glad is life to those who know Thee, 
And sad to those who know Thee not. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 73 



O : SHOW ME THY LOVE. 

O show me thy love ! Thou great Behig abroad, 
Whom the Nations proclaim as the Author and God 

Of all that they feel and revere; 
O show me Thy love ! till Thy love is adored, 

Beyond the earth cherished and dear. 

In sickness, in trouble, in trial, or remorse. 
When mem'ry revolting but niourneth the cross, 

O ! show me the proof of Thy love ; 
Until all my sorrows forgetteth the source, 

To think of their Heaven above. 

O show me Thy love ! that Thy love I may show 
To others submerged in the caldrons of woe. 

Beyond their attempts to release ; 
So I by examj)le may teach them to know 

The power that gave me such peace. 

Yes show me Thy love ! till my spirit, yes mine 
Becomes in endeavor the equal of Thine, 

Thy glory to herald and sing; 
And liolding no desire more true or divine, 

Than the honor I to Thee may bring. 



BESEECHING. 

O Father of Heaven ! who reigneth in glory, 
Where the works of Thy fiat bespangle Thy shrine, 

The orbs of the firmament, and others more hoary, 
But tell with a wonder how Thou art divine. 

The moon in its lustre, so solemn and haughty. 
The realms of the distant so endless and high, 

The storms and the clouds in their radiant beauty, 
Are all the abodes of Thy spirit and eye. 

In homage that thrills with the visions of yonder, 
To Thee I must bow in the mien of a slave, 

And own that the power that keeps them asunder. 
Hath even the power to answer my crave. 

Then this is the hope of my will and desire, 
To Thee be the prayer I give as a plea, 

To all of Thy knowledge forever acquire. 
And glory. Thy glory, with glory to Thee. 



74 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINQB 



THE PROGRESS OF RELIGION.* 

ARGUMENT. 
Section I. 

Meditations awakened by the dead, communion with their 
absence, and the desire to be united with them inseparably and 
forever. 

Section II. 

The Sun as the source of light compared to the mind as the seat 
of knowledge. Both essential to the welfare of life. Supposition 
of the analogy of instinct and reason, and the affinity of awe and 
wonder. Summary of the reign of barbarism, and the advance- 
ment of civilization leading to the birth of the Saviour as the 
founder of Christianity. 

Section 411. 

Retrospection of the persecutions of the Christians, and of the 
ultimate triumph of their faith through all times and changes. 
Appeal to the all to become believers and followers. 

Section IV. 

Citations of the vicissitudes of existence portrayed by good and 
by evil, and from all classes and conditions, with reflections and 
observations on the results of consequence. 

Section V. 

Hope and Disappointment, considered inimically and bene- 
ficially, conveying the moral of experience as the best instructor of 
wisdom if properly obeyed. 

* For this essay, both by reason of its length and the subject— or rather 
lack of subject— of which it treats the poet requests the indulgence of the 
reader over that of any other in the volume. 

The theme of religion— the Christian religion— its origin and progress, 
as variable as the past, and as vague as the future, when it is attempted in 
verse bordering upon a Scriptural scope, has been said to be like giving hue 
to the lily or scent to the rose; and the bard sees no cause to place this iu a 
category beyond the accord of such an opinion. Yet from its construction, 
as well as tlie treatment of its periods, he would fain cherish the belief that 
some interest may be found in its lines, to relieve the monotony of what he 
fears would be an otherwise dull perusal. 

The service of a foot-note is mainly explanatory, and this, spoi'adic as it 
is, may serve to attract the only attention to a matter it was capable of re- 
ceiving. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 75 



Section VI. 

The goadings and consolations of Memory, which allied to the 
survey of the Universal, produces the feeling that all are created for 
some use that only the Hereafter can determine. 

Section VII. 

A prospect of the Grave as the welcome anticipation of the 
future, and the cure of all earthly ills. Showing the peace that 
await those who can calmly die, for from its womb we came, and 
unto its breast we return like a child to its mother, worn out by 
toil or play, anxious for the rest beyond. 



Section VIII. 

Contrast of the gathering of the hosts of Heaven, whence all 
is known, whence all is judged, and whence all is punished or 
rewarded. 



I. 

What beauties flow from out the silent tomb, 

When there we give our freshened fancies room ! 

The hallowed forms of sleeping dusts arise, 

In all the lustres of their heavenly dyes, 

Except the ones our visions need not paint, 

With all the colors of the blooming saint; 

For there where some while dwellers here on earth. 

Too pure for others to claim an equal birth : 

And only needed an entrance to the skies. 

To prove them Seraphs to our wondering eyes. 

'Tis these we summon to our mood and mind, 

The best of nature and of human kind. 

Tn these we live our memories once more, 

Ere they were wafted to that calmer shore. 

Bright are their thoughts unto our yearning given. 

With shapes that speak and beckon us to Heav'n. 

And in our souls we share that thrill of yore, 

That linked us to the spirits gone before. 

While grief departing assumes another mien, 

To robe our sadness with a nobler scene. 

And even life so formerly hard to bear 



76 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



Betakes the blessing that these aspects wear. 

AVhatis it then that round the bleeding heart, 

Bids such be softened and to such impart, 

If not the liope— the wish — the pray'r — the will. 

To be with these our longings only fill, 

And live again as we have lived below, 

In pride that mantles, and with joys that glow ? 

Divinest thought that animates this clod, 

Born of the power and the plan of God; 

Thoucan'st attain this summit of thy plea, 

List to the manner and the way to thee ! 

II. 

When there was formed this circle of a globe. 

Crowned with the verdure of its changing robe. 

Yon gleamed a light to point the travellers' way, 

Who should go onward through its night and day. 

And in the mind that marks our widest span. 

Was placed the signet of the hope of man. 

To ask the wherefore learned why he was placed 

Amid such scenes that every wonder traced. 

That Light— that Signet was the Sun and Soul, 

Gifts of the Author whom we call the whole, 

And if thou would'st inquire whence He came, 

Go give this Blena, then, a better name. 

Let us survey, then, those tedious tracks of yore, 

And o'er their events let the fancy soar, 

With precept only as our surest guide. 

Seek out the secrets that their epochs hide. 

Let us imagine Reason's primal root 

Formed from the instinct of the reigning brute, 

Let us behold these creatures once again 

Awed by the language of the mighty main, 

And how the heavens, glittering with its lights. 

Seemed to their gaze so many mystic sights; 

Or how the mount, the valley, and the wood. 

Still to their minds this wondering fear imbued, 

Until from all between the night and morn, 

Lo ! Superstition, as a child, was born. 

Ah, then the scenes that swept this infant earth 

Were far too great for later thought to birth. 

For gilded Idols cleave the fertile sod. 

To point their worships to the Heathen God, 

And tender life, ere perfect from the womb, 

Conveys the homage of a fearful doom. 

Then Omens were the oracles of the Avise, 

And Blood esteemed the holiest sacrifice ; 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



Then venal arts, comprising savage rites, 
Sent forth their Offerings from barbaric heights. 
And these were such, which even to recall, 
Throws o'er the memory Terror's sablest pall. 
Until from all so sensual and so gross, 
There sprung the Bible and there came the Cross- 
Behold again hfe's era formed anew, 
That holds the sequel of this time to you. 

III. 

When Roman law the Christian's fate decreed, 
And sent them forth to suffer and to bleed. 
The lions' morsel and the tigers' prey, 
Or delight the audience of their holiday. 
It set on flame a pyramid of fire 
That ended in the sainted Martyr's pyre; 
Nor could the chain, the dungeon, and the stake 
The fiery spirit of the captive break. 
Those were the deeds, the bloodiest on the page 
That links the Latin to the Christian age. 
Nor could the rack, the gibbet, and the bowl 
Blot out the embers of the Convert's soul. 
Too often then the fell assassin's knife 
O'ercame the tenets that it shunned m strife; 
Too often then the Bigot and the Priest 
Gave to tradition what it wants the least. 
And ah, what tales could Monkish convents tell- 
To shame a Heaven or to paint a Hell! 
Too often then the thrones of Helot Kings 
Were but the arenas of more baser things. 
For then the plot begot by Beauty's wand 
Destroyed the intrigues of the Master hand. 
And many an Altar trembled to the shock. 
That echoed from the deadly Headsman's block. 
Then Courts were all, and many a tribe was s^^nt 
To grace the motley of the Victor's tent; 
And O how sad it is to thus record— 
The Innocence that fell to their reward. 
O where, O Faith, where was thy Guardian then 
When Romanism thralled the souls of men. 
And in the glove that did so silken feel. 
Conceal the sharpness of the poisoned steel ? 
Moons rose on moons, and nights of fleecy clouds 
Gave way to darkness and their gloomy shrouds. 
Davs followed davs, to ope the gates of gold, 
Th-it thro' the posterns of oblivion rolled ; 
And sylvan scenes beset with palms and vinesj 



78 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



Gave way to bleakness where no lining shines, 
Which proper mirrored the assaults that ranged 
Upon the Creed that higher knowledge changed. 
And still that Christian from disaster thrived, 
'Gainst all the arts the Pagan hosts contrived. 
What, though the foe shall on his legions press, 
With pomp of numbers, and with pride of dress? 
Ten thousand banners still defiant fly 
Their blazing embleuis to the foeman's eye; 
Ten thousaml swords still gleam within the air, 
To show that might and power still are there. 
Ten thousand hearts still cherish with their blood, 
The fields of glory where their brethren stood; 
While from the clarion rings the stalwart cry 
Of hope to all, from Him enthroned on high, 
That valiant Chief that never spurned a friend. 
Nor sought a foe, but sought him to defend :— 
From meaner ends that threaten in the strife. 
Where cause is honor, and where gain is life. 
O who would then against His shield array? 
O who would then dispute His sovereign sway? 
Since unto all He gives that greatest goal 
Found in a Heaven and an Angel's soul. 
Who would not then the armor ever wear 
That makes them one in that Assembly there? 
The way is plain, alike for all to see, 
Since it is written, none need perished be. 

IV. 

Life were no pastime to the conunon crowd. 

So often crushed by both the strong and proud, 

And it were well some asylum did remain, 

To halt the duping, and to quell the vain. 

How sweet the thought that when this one is past, 

The courts of Justice ope to us at last; 

That in its aisles forever safely found. 

We wait the echo of the trumpet's sound : 

To call us to the judgments that redeem 

Fate of its action, promise from its dream; 

Where we may plead if we have erred below, 

Not all was purpose that impelled us so. 

Alas for Fancy, when it beckoned views 

The dreary ruins of its faded hues — 

Hues once so fair that to the soul were sent. 

Until they seemed to touch and tempt content; 

But now, alas, their wonted joys are gone, 

And still the scene still rushes madly on. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 79 



For scattered now they lie upon the ground. 
To mould in hollows or decay the mound. 
And tho' no stone may of their features plead, 
The old decipher, and the young can read. 
See yonder Maid and her distracted brow. 
That mourns the outcome of a hapless vow; 
Think of the hopes, so pitilessly denied, 
That might have been an influential pride; 
And in this picture, thou base abjurer, see 
The future portion of thy doom to be. 
Hers was the guilt, but thine shall be the blame, 
In times that loathe, and lengthen out thy name; 
Behold thee branded with this stigma's curse, 
And shunned of all that could not Avell be worse. 
See subtle Friendship smiling to deceive, 
And guileless Honor panting to receive; 
Until at last the Stoic then it turns. 
With eye suspicious, and with ear that spurns. 
And who the ones that did such ardors halt, 
If not Seduction and Deception's fault; 
See mean Servility cringe beneath the sneer, 
To mock again the haughty Scion's leer; 
See specious Slander, complacently and sly, 
Uttering the falsehood that it knows a he. 
See giant Genius wield the tyrannic stroke 
That clothes the world in fire and in smoke, 
Until the skies partake another glare— 
Than native elements conjointly could prepare, 
And rivers rush their currents to the flood. 
Swayed by the masses of the slaughter's blood. 
What horror, then, when License, unrestrained, 
Gave unto Rapine what its frenzy gained. 
When Fury, rampant, unto Murder calls— 
Her gory slogans down Destruction's hahs. 
Ah, those were scenes to pale the seeing eye: 
Or charm the bosom to Compassion's sigh. 
And wish for some one— Someone just and great. 
To baffle back the incidents of hate. 
See helpless Worth before Position bent. 
Yet scorn the favors of its scorned intent. 
See honest Toil denied the scant rewards, 
That meagre custom meagrely affords. 
While the Patrician quite ready to describe- 
But deems the Menial but the Plebeian tribe. 
See cramped Affection preserve the diadem 
Of humble love that is their all to them, 
And tottering thro' the steps so dull before, 
Still bind the union that could be no more. 



80 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



Such scenes as these hft off the veil from earth, 
So full of sadness, and so clad with dearth. 
See trampled Chasteness pleading- for the vow — 
That must be useless for its purpose now. 
Hear in her tone how pathos trembles there: 
Mark ye the pity of that wasted prayer. 
Then see the river and its gurgling tide — 
Disrupt the bubbles that their rise decide. 
And wherefore this, if not to hide the shame, 
That clings around the Prostituted name ? 
See some again expire by the means, 
That more acutely their dishonor screens; 
While foul Betrayal pompously goes free, 
And thinks how easy to licentious be. 
Ah, these are things to stir the mortal heart 
To more than nature, and to more than art. 
See still again the boasted force of Vice; 
Grioat o'er the Victim that its lusts entice. 
Watch yonder Form seek out the lonely sod, 
To pay Love's tribute to the mouldering clod : 
'Tis but a tear, perhaps a wistful pray'r, 
But O what virtue can such tokens bear. 
Beneath that spot too simple for a tomb; 
Death robbed the youthful of its richest bloom. 
But still she goes, and still will there repair. 
To make that Shrine devotion's only care : — 
Uutil the years that shadow out their dream 
Unites the final to the first extreme. 
And this were love — such love as well may make 
A heaven envious for its deed to take. 
See lowly Virtue become its wearer's snare; 
And barter Goodness for a rank less fair. 
See bitter Want outstretched upon the stones — 
And moaning out the echo of its groans. 
While Waste, luxurious, flaunting idly by, 
Siuits out the tremors of that labored sigh. 
And see ye, too, that Wreck upon the street- 
Exposed to hunger and the stormy sleet. 
Drag out a life devoid of every gain, 
Except that Pittance, that doth sear the brain; 
While far at home a mother weeps alone — 
The awful Horror that reflects her own. 
Tliere are some things no solace can appease. 
But none are sadder than tlie pangs of these. 
O'er Suffering's couch an Angel may be seen. 
To chase the shadows that will come between, 
The pallid brow and thoughtful mind that wears 
The deadly symbol of uniuimbered cares. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 81 



That burning lip the pleasing draught has cooled— 

Those aching eyes a tender glance has ruled, 

That humble home has now a brighter dress 

Than it before was frequent to confess. 

Here Pain is stayed, and Anguish turned away, 

By every answer that could these allay; 

And this was prompted by that grace above 

That takes the name of fond and holy love. 

O see Affliction bowing down the great! 

To stamp the collar and the sting of fate. 

O see Disease ! that cancer to the mind — 

Eat out the vigor of the loving kind ! 

And Misery, a Spectre stalk abroad, 

To doubt the presence and the seal of God ; 

While titled Fashion tighter holds the purse 

At once its own and everybody's curse. 

And then with these unto thy thoughts conveyed. 

Thou hast the Image of the past surveyed. 



High beats the hope in youth's undaunted breast, 

When armed by fancy and the spirit's zest. 

No top too great, but what they can surmount; 

Though those arise they did not stop to count. 

O'er paths of wonder yet to lore untaught, 

Roves the light eye and goes the careless thought— 

Until at last, dissembled from its dream. 

Its visions vanish and disrobes its theme 

And then they see the fallacy of the trial, 

That Malice painted with a Houri's smile. 

Perhaps it was a trust abused reposed 

O'er yet again some doorway surly closed. 

Perhaps it was the failure of the task, 

But what it was, 'twere now in vain to ask. 

Success alone must mark the seeking aim. 

Though that be gotten by the falsest claim; 

And thus is hope dethroned to pave the way, 

For Sorrows long and culminating day. 

Where fierce Despair some demon, huge and grim, 

Engulfs the bather ere they sought to swim; 

And where the promise that was bright before, 

Is now a cloudburst with no silver o'er: 

Till like a tree bereft of every dew. 

It sinks a burden, and is lost to view. 

O what a crater then we see ! 

Which once was wonted peace to be; 



82 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



For fiery torments swell the heart, 

And cracking it in every part. 

Deluge the passions with a spell, 

Of what it is beyond to tell. 
So with the soul, that buffets thro' the world, 
To all the slings that venomed ire hurled. 
Those whom we trust are apt to most deceive, 
Until the Heart refuses to believe— 
And like a sorrow feels when thus alone, 
There is no guidance but itself to own; 
That right or wrong the impulse will obey, 
That makes it happiest for the passing day. 
Until at last all knowledge is forgot. 
And that acquainted which were best if not. 
O calloused Hope! O base deserting Mind! 
That to such changes could thy feelings bind. 
Turn to the thoughts that o'er thy mem'ry swarm 
Anew thy purpose and thy courage form. 
Turn to the Light that never shall thee fail — 
And thou shalt hear an echo to thy Hail. 
Not over thee, alone, the torrents leap, 
Not over thee the fiery simoons sweep, 
To no one spot the soils of earth confine 
The fruitful herbage and the teeming vine. 
For see the desert distant from the lea, 
And as with Nature, so it is with thee, 
The heart may quiet w^hat it cannot quench: 
And Resolve solace w^hat its shadows drench. 
Till thou canst hope if not immured to all. 
To rise as often as thou seem'st to fall. 



VI. 

These mem'ry, these, are portraits of the mind, 
That but in thee thy bitter lessons find; 
The lights and shades that flicker o'er the path 
Of they who e'er the name of Mortal hath 
Nor can destroy the evidence that they 
Are but the puppets of a fleeting day. 
But let us turn us from these things of earth. 
So full of passion, and so steeped in dearth; 
tjplift the eye unto that glorious sphere, 
Beyond the reach of boastful Science here. 
There, and there alone, of all it brings, 
Behold the aspectof Immortal things; 
What starry hosts upon the sight appear — 
In all the splendor of their great career: 
Observe their motions and reflect their ways, 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 83 



Now cast in lustre, or now set with haze. 

And deep below that all-delightful boon, 

The noble pendant of the rounded Moon. 

Who else— who else but He, who could prepare, 

Does crown the Heavens with a scene so fair? 

For over all there towers like a ward 

Some Being's statue that is surely God. 

See various satellites sweeping stately by 

To greet their Orions and salute the sky; 

A es there are but a fraction's time 

In all that region that our thoughts sublime. 

And here may they who hath not fear before, 

Find gradient worship and experience awe; 

View from their souls these templed courts arise 

And own at last His glory never dies. 

And must it be that We so less than they, 

Shall be no witness in that certain day; 

When all must answer to the favored grace 

That cloaked their borders and defined their place — 

Deride the thought for it to folly turns. 

The form of living and the name of Urns. 



VII. 

No longer now I look upon the Grave 

As that to flee from, or o'er which to rave; 

Once to my thoughts it had a wholesome fear, 

Once sighed my bosom, and once burned my tear. 

But now I look upon that little spot 

As all the treasures I have really got; 

Nor for a crown, nor for its widest throne 

Would I exchange that manor all my own. 

That is the Heritage I can freely boast, 

Bequeathed my spirit by the Holy Ghost. 

Tho' some would live, I di*ead not now to die 

Since I have found the passage to the sky; 

For 'tis the bier in which we simply rest. 

Until it wakes us to assume our crest. 

What if my comrades be the ghastly worms — 

No dangers harm me with their ruffled storms: 

Still from the scene of every strife I sleep 

Secure and faultless in that sacred deep. 

Nor caring what my relics may exhume, 

To tell the record of my pastful doom. 

No longer there I wake as from a bed. 

To still the impulse and to rack the head, 

To find the morning but the shade of night 



84 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



And night again but full of darker blight; 

O! no, for nie siich changes then have ceased, 

And I from Envy and its troop released. 

For nie no more the midnight wraith apjjears. 

To curb m3^ motive and to edge my fears: 

For there the stillness of a slumber reigns 

That has no likeness in these fleshy chains. 

For eye and ear make up the separate link. 

Of those with reason and the sense to think. 

And Thought, that weapon that sometimes disarms 

The earnest wielder of its fairest charms; 

And often on the place of rest recoils, 

With smells that sicken, and with trust that spoils. 

But 1 need not now to further stretch the scene, 

Since all have tasted of the truths 1 mean.) 

How oft thy limits bind me to the grave. 

The fondest haven that thy longings crave; 

And Though, thy horizons to a focus slope. 

Not all that is, can rob the soul of Hope: 

For 'tis declared no triumph hath the tomb, 

Nor sting to that, that bids us it resume. 

For from that Fountain where we shrink aghast, 

Dwelt our first image and must dwell the last. 

Why should we then turn from that pressing thought 

So often banished and so dearly bought, 

That when this life has ceased its stormy wave, 

We have a refuge in the pleasing grave ? 

That blessed bourne to which we all can fly, 

And gives our names a Title in the sky. 

VIII. 

And thus would Contemplation, rousing oft 

The fond remembrance of those feelings soft, 

Appeal to Time forever to restore 

(Not time behind but that which is before) 

Our aeliing bosoms from the idols rent. 

Where all our dreams and brightest joys were si)tii1. 

There may the Mother enfold the darling child, 

That like a cherub on her bosom smiled; 

While at the Font that gave the pearly stream. 

Imbibe at once her pleasure and its dream. 

Too soon — too soon from loving glances torn, 

To be a sunbeam in that cloudless morn. 

There may the Lovers wrung by fate apart, 

Behold again the temples of the heart. 

Sigh o'er the scenes they once so fondly knew. 

Recount the changing and rehearse the true. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 85 



Compose again the once familiar kiss 

And deem their Bridals in devotion's bliss. 

There too the Friend will greet the friend of old 

With ties more constant than the bonds of gold; 

And there the Sire behold the brawny son, 

That Duty summoned and which Honor won. 

The sword shall there be fashioned to a pen, 

And bayonets write the deeds of valiant men, 

Which o'er the page of great achievements throw 

Too great a shadow for the truth to show\ 

There will the Daughter of the wild be found. 

Who once gave echo to the orgie's sound; 

Where he the cause must pale before the eye 

That glances pity with a mourn erV nigh: 

There will the Orphan's and the Widow's tear, 

Shine the first jewel in that brilliance here. 

There Wrong will learn the Righter's rightful might 

And Baseness see its evil brought to light. 

And there Deceit and the Oppressor's guile, 

Taste of the bitters of their damning smile. 

There will the Rapture from the source we draw, 

Enchant the ardor that but thrilled of yore. 

When faith beholds the changes of the day 

That sought to lure but nought could charm away. 

And there shall we arrange the spotless guise. 

That crowns us Emperors of the lordly skies: 

And every heart that formerly felt a fear, 

In mingled sweetness flow commingled here. 

ForO! what wonders shall themselves contrast 

In that Emporium where all is well at last; 

Which shall unite the proudest and the low — 

And all alike in equal verdict show: 

There will the hands, the lips of kindly needs, 

Embrace the Sceptres of their gracious deeds; 

And Modesty so shroud in gloom before. 

Make up the columns of that vernal shore. 

There will the Boy, the wayward youth of sin, 

The welcome tokens of his parents win: 

And Constancy approving there shall stand 

The proudest pillar of that happy band. 

And there Religion will thy name be seen 

The brightest symbol of that lustrous scene. 

With Mercy smiling by thy sainted side 

And Conscience blushing with unconscious i^ride: 

And high o'er all on His celestial throne 

The Gfod of Glory all shall love to own. 

Where we will know w^hat now so prone to deem, 

Life were no bondage nor the soul a dream. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



HYMN. 

I long to do something for Jesus, 

Who has done such a wonder for ine. 
I long to give something as precious 

As the blood that was shed on the tree. 
But, alas ! for the folly of wanting, 

When the means are so slender and few 
To render the desires so haunting 

And leave us so helpless to do. 

I would tho' I had of the treasures 

The reckless so vilely abuse, 
I'd turn all their favors to pleasures, 

Far different than now they diffuse. 
And if all these riches so noted 

Were mine for my purpose to be, 
Forever they should be devoted 

In glory, my Saviour, to Thee. 

O ! I long to do something in motive 

As great as the cross and the thorn, 
Tho' I know I can never make votive 

An offering to equal the scorn. 
But I hear Him reply to my prayer 

As this wish of my feelings I plead; 
By the voice that doth say over there, 

Thy desire ^hall be as the deed. 



HYMN. 

Amid the vows that go to Thee, 

Thou who art divine. 
From weeping eyes that make the sea 

Of sweetness or of brine, 
If echo still can still recall, 
The echoes of their rise and fall. 
Beyond them sounds another call. 

And this is mine. 

O when before thee I must stand ! 

To meet thy searching eye, 
Which glances true on every hand, 

The distant or the nigh. 
Hear— hear my plaintive plea. 
And if Thou canst then succor me, 
And grant this gift I ask of Thee, 

Let me not die. 



DEVOTIOJSTAL OFFERmOS 87 



BEYOND THE SKY. 

Beyond the sky there shines a h'ght 
Which though I cannot wholly see, 

I know it beams as pure and bright 
As those which are in view to me. 

There does my longing often dwell, 
There does my fancy frequent turn, 

And all that hope can feel or tell, 
Does in the thought of wishing yearn. 

But what were hope, since grief, and pain, 
Are mine to know, and mine to share: 

And shadow shades my peace again. 
With all the gloom my soul can bear. 

But then I soothe these wild regrets. 
This flooding tear, this aching sigh. 

To think the sun that never sets, 
Doth shine for me beyond the sky. 



AS SHINES THE MOON. 

As shines the moon beyond the clouds 

Of tempest and distress, 
Which by the color of their shrouds 

Their fiercest throes confess. 

So can my soul aloft in realms 
Where passion's never seen; 

Receive the crown of diadems, 
From Heaven's placid scene. 

As shines the moon ere time to pale. 
Serenely, pure, and bright, 

Above the ardor of the gale, 
And all the wrath of night, 

So can my soul of peace assured, 

In all its magic glow, 
Look calmly on the scenes allured, 

While tempests rage below. 

The storms may come, the waters rise, 
The clouds with blackness teem, 

But I shall float in azure skies. 
All guiltless and supreme. 



DE VOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



O THOU! OF ALL POWER. 

O thou! of all power, we humble before Thee 

The spirit so often at war with Thy name, 
And ask for Thy mercy once more to adore Thee, 

Before we are doomed to those feelings of shame. 
We ask Thee by sighing, by weeping, by pleading, 

We ask Thee by memory, tho^ distant and past, 
Again to renew in our bosoms that heeding, 

That once for Thy honor its effort did cast. 

We've travelled the world in the search of its pleasures. 

And found not the kernel tho' often the shell, 
How false were the mirages, that fancy oft measures, 

To leave us now nothing but darkness and hell. 
The thought is now shattered that vaunted its power, 

The pride is now broken that carried us on. 
And all that is left us of life is the sour, 

Because all the sweetness but pity has gone. 

Of all the known powers of comfort and wisdom, 

Of all that most quiets the arrow-pierced breast. 
We know 'tis the hope where our penance can blossom 

To give us that favor the fondest and best. 
O! then let us claim Thee, the boon of our burden, 

O! then let us hear Thee, now answer our cry, 
Which nmst to Thy waiting seem like a rich guerdon 

That echoes the greeting, O! save or we die. 

WHEN OVER THE WATERS. 

When over the waters my spirit shall sail. 

That now from my wishes divides, 
I'll furl every longing that once did prevail 

To check the restraint of its tides. 

Free, free, to the winds that will waft me along. 

My course will direct to that shore, 
So teeming with echoes of music and song, 

That never can wholly be o'er. 

In robes that will glisten with splendor and pride, 

My place I shall take on its strand. 
And know as among its enjoyers I glide, 

I too can its pleasures command. 

There, there, may my soul its desires renew, 
There, there, may my homage resume 

The paeans of glory, O heaven ! to you. 
Of triumph o'er death and the tomb. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 89 



ANTHEM. 

Open, Lord of the hosts, 

Open Thy skies ! 
Open those starry coasts, 

Shut from our eyes : 
For our exalting boasts, 

Now will arise. 

Thou art— Thou art, O yes, Thou art 
The joy— the joy of the world: 

Thou art— Thou art, O yes, Thou art 
The joy— the joy of the world. 

O! like a flood of light. 

Streaming afar, 
Comes Thy almighty might, 

Comes like a star. 
When in the darkening night, 

Blackness would bar. 

Then would our voices blend. 

Those accents of love, 
Which shall their incense send, 

Hallowed above. 
Till they the echoes lend, 

What they are of. 



HOSANNA. 

Over my spirit 

Rolleth the dream. 
Bidding me fear it, 

Bidding me deem 
All of Thy blessed grace, 
As my allotted place, 
Thou of all present space, 

Whom 1 esteem. 

Come then in shadow. 
Come then in smile, 

I shall be glad, Oh! 

For the sweet trial ; 

Telhng Thy name my love. 

Telling the hosts above: 

I am an atom of 
Sorrow's exile. 



90 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



TELL ME, IS IT JOY? 

When I weep from melancholy, 
Why a vision softly, slowly 
Stealing o'er my spirit lowly. 

Tell me, is it joy ? 
When the lightnings touch the heart, 
Sensitive to every smart. 
Why a solace for the dart, 

Tell me, is it joy ? 
When the shadows forming, frown, 
Grlancing looks of anger down, 
Why a longing for a crown. 

Tell me, is it joy ? 
And when the awful of that day 
Sheds upon me its array, 
Why a hope its fears to stay. 

Tell me is it joy. 



I'VE SEEN. 

I've seen the gem in brilliance shine 

On beauty's marble brow. 
And awe and homage call divine 

These vying colors now, 
And then I turned me to an eye. 
That shone more bright in fancy nigh. 

I've seen the meteor flash the sky 

AVith every trailing blaze. 
Till wonder deemed the favored eye 

Enchanted by the gaze; 
And then 1 turned me to a throne : 
That still more fair with splendor shone. 

I've seen the iris paint the vault 

Of heaven's widest range. 
And thrill my soul with glory's halt 

To see that lustre change, 
And then I turned me to a ray. 
More pure, more bright, than any day. 

Then o'er my doubt, I've seen the glow 

Of every faith restored, 
And bade the cause of worship flow 

To Him, my joy — my God, 
For whence proceeds these thoughts that be, 
If not the longing after Thee. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 91 



THE WHISPER. 



1 knew a youth, a whisper said, 
Who loved, and was beloved again. 
For she the Maid who urged this 
Wakening thought, let her young heart 
Gro out to him, who claimed its sacred 
Trust, in all the purity of innocence 
And joy. No wealth had she, nor looks, 
Nor kin, that court the greater name- 
But she was good, and sought the lowly deed: 
And he was but the servitor of time. 
And they were happy in their love. 
And deemed its wisdom planned of God. 
But changes came, and she the Maid, 
No longer gentle was, for Pride had 
Tempted all that love once scorned. 
She broke the bond— and with it went 
All hope he ever knew. 
She loved again, or as the Gossips tell— 
Found a more fitting sphere to crown 
Her holy life. And time passed on— 
And fortune blessed her brow, and gave 
Her breast the Image of herself. 
All this he knew, and envy, rage, revenge, 
As memory rose and fell, passed thro' 
His thoughts like poisoned dreams, 
But still he calmed himself, for he had 
Sworn upon the vow of Love, no ill should 
Pass his heart of her. He kept his trust. 
Kept it as the Religion of his soul: for 
Though he held the Secret of her life— 
And a precious tie it was— a spell 
Within, from out the chaos of despair, 
Gave peace at last; to rob his sorrow 
Of its bitterest pangs:— 

And through the years that came and went, 
Years numbered but with deepening gloom. 
He lived and died— and gave no sign 
That he had ever brooked a fancy false to her. 
The whisper paused, or died as whispers 
Die—yet ere it closed, I caught its 
Lingering pause. 

It IS enough— 

For why detail, that which the world 
Already knows too well. But when the 
Christian— they that boast its purchased 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



Name — and bear the manner to the deed: 

Tell of glories bartered for the cause, 

Tell them too the cost of Mine. 

With that it ceased, and wonder heard no more. 



ANTHEM. 

When, as a sign, was writ 

Heaven's decree, 
Saying 1 sanction it. 

For it is Me — 
Lo ! in the ebon height 
Gleamed a transparent light: 
Sparkling how clear and white, 

Wondrous to see. 



Then did the haughty voice 

Lower its tone. 
Then did the true rejoice, 

Claiming their own. 
Blending their praising psalms 
Vivid with holy charms — 
Exhorting all fear alarms, 

O ! honor our throne. 



Then in a cot of earth 

Blushing to name, 
Christ of the soul had birth 

Almost in shame. 
Yet from that humble place 
Sprang the immaculate grace, 
That did the guilt erase 

AVritten in flame. 



O! how my deepening soul 

Pants to receive, 
He whom I must extol I 

And to believe. 
Is to have joy and peace. 
Hope that shall never cease 
Till death will all increase, 

Never to grieve. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 93 



HOW WONDROUS, GOD. 

How wondrous, God, Thy works are placed 

Within their mighty zone, 
Each one with awe and wisdom graced. 

And each a fitting throne. 
They bind the soul to hush the fears. 

Attaching hope to see, 
That one of all those many spheres, 

May be reserved for me. 

As fancy flitters o'er the part 

Revealed to thought or eye, 
It hurries rapture to the heart 

To see that starry sky. 
I will behold them, then, nor swerve 

From what I must adore, 
And faith will teach me to observe, 

Thy manner more and more. 

O Christ! since Thou it is that gives, 

Me entrance to that bourne, 
So would I let, while memory lives. 

Thy name my page adorn; 
As stars are set above the earth 

To shed their glory down, 
So was it meant Thy humble birth 

Should all our dying crown. 



WHEN SONG NO MORE MY DREAMS CAN WOO. 

When song no more my dreams can woo, 

And mem'ry fades from out my mind, 
No tear, or sigh, that Death can do. 

Shall mark the course I leave behind. 
For with that firm, undaunted lip. 

That brooked alike the sneer and smart 
I'll bid my soul its strength equip. 

For that that Avouldits tenor start. 

When hope no more my grief can stay, 

And every charm I knew has flown, 
I'll wait with joy the coming day 

That says the grave must claim its own. 
Then shall my spirit upward soar. 

Up to those realms surpassing bright. 
Where Jesus Avaits a name no more, 

To crown the soul, with love, and light. 



94 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



HYMN. 

O let us love! almighty God, 

The name that is divine, 
O let us love Thee! though the sword. 

That pierces, shall be Thine. 
O! let us love Thy many deeds, 

Whose wisdom's deep to see. 
Yet tempts the soul to say that bleeds. 

I bathe my wounds in Thee. 

O let us love Thee! as Thou art, 

The God of flood and flame, 
O let us love Thee! from the heart, 

And loving praise Thy name; 
Then chief amongst our vocal cries, 

When song and prayer agree. 
Will be the sound that tells the skies, 

O! keep Thy wrath from me. 



HYMN. 

Lord ! I come, and come confessing 
Needs of Thine that I must have, 

Nor will 1 flinch their blow or blessing. 
If they but all redeem my crave. 

1 care not how the bliss or burden, 
Upon my promise You may lay, 

Since they will bring the holy guerdon, 
I know will come beyond their day. 

Why should I smile, and shut the shadow, 

Why welcome joy to flee remorse, 
Why give the shout, to hush the echo. 

Since Christ's was both the thorn and cross. 
Why should I court alone the beauty 

That earth or life holds out to me. 
When shade, or sorrow, mark the duty. 

Of all as good, and sweet, to be. 

Then let me bear my griefs unflinching. 

Then let me face unmoved the frown. 
And love, and hope, the truth convincing, 

AVill all at last in rapture crown. 
The cross comes first, the crown awaits us, 

Beyond this bourne so fair to see, 
And peace, and pain, but more relate us, 

To joys we know are found in thee. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 95 



THE HAPPY HOUR. 

There is a time to every mortal's bosom 

More dear, more fair, than all the rest may be, 
When mem'ry's feelings expanded to their blossom. 

Bend all their lustres for the eye to see; 
To youth it may be but the fragile bubble 

That sports its colors on the wanton air, 
To break its beauties for their childhood trouble, 

And leave no vestige of the joys that were. 

To love it is to note the blush of shyness, 

O'erspread the mantle of the virgin's cheek 
And feel the heart mount to that place of dryness, 

So prone to utter, yet so faint to speak. 
To stern ambition 'tis to find the treasure, 

Sought for so patient through the trying past, 
Within its grasp to prize it at its leisure 

And know 'tis theirs for all the toil at last. 

Unto the warrior 'tis to see the banner, 

So all inspiring to his clouded eyes, 
Borne still aloft tho' thousands dim its manner, 

And pity from his better nature dies. 
To age it is, to witness the possession 

Of some long-cherished, some ennobling pride: 
Perhaps a son's or daughter's. gay procession 

Unto the altar as bridegroom or the bride. 

But to the Christian, 'tis when holy dying. 

They leave no sorrow to the world behind, 
Nor feel, nor know the name of any sighing, 

Except as comfort to the kindred mind. 
O happy hour ! that makes me God immortal, 

How pleasing to reflect where I shall be. 
For all my hope does lie beyond thy portal. 

Thou happy hour, the hour of death to me. 



96 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



TO MY DEAD MOTHER. 



Dear mother, thou art gone, but where ? 
Where we will hope the angels bear 

The good, the true of earth. 
For never since this shape of clay 
Assumed the mortal's mortal way 

Was formed a nobler birth. 



No longer now we look on thee, 
As we were wont to pleasing see, 

For all that was has fled; 
For from thy temple there has flown 
The spirit that was all its own, 

And thou art as the dead. 



The eye that once so brightly beamed, 
The hand that but our welfare deemed. 

Are even as the dust; 
Yet thro' the years that come between. 
With reverence due each holy scene, 

We'll keep the hallowed trust. 

Bat e'er they bear thee to the tomb, 
That place of rest although of gloom. 

That must our fancy knell; 
The tie that every vision links, 
Uniting past and future brinks, 

Depicts this fond farewell. 

How from my lips spontaneous breaks 
The sound that all my being wakes. 

As on thy name I call; 
As now I see thee on the bier, 
And dumb to every plea and tear, 

That covers as a pall. 

That name— that name ! of Mother dear, 
Which claims my thought in secret here. 

That first, that best of names; 
Which Heaven gave to earth to show. 
There still may o'er its manner flow 

A name no bearer shames. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 97 



As on thy face I coldly look, 
The form of thee my spirit took, 

And warmed it into life. 
To make me think if thou hadst faults, 
The son is proud that he exalts 

The mother more than wife. 

Yet looking backward o'er the scene, 
Where thou to me so oft have been 

The solace and the spur, 
I would not from my inmost heart, 
The wish that is prevent depart. 

That you were than you were. 

My soul— my soul ! I want it back, 
I want it o'er the gulfless track 

That gives thine own a name. 
But ah, alas ! I have no soul. 
Since thou who didst that thing control 

Have left me not a claim. 

Away— away— vain harbored thought. 
So dearly hoped, so dearly bought 

I know thou canst not be. 
For in the grave where liest thou 
There lieth, too, my spirit now 

Which was the soul of thee. 

But art thou gone? No, not while e'er 
This feeble mind can frame a pray'r 

Or send a wish to thee, 
Shall time or change eclipse the tear. 
Or from my worship disappear. 

The one so dear to me. 

No more — no more ! upon the stair 
Thou'lt spring to meet me coming there. 

To welcome with the smile, 
And offer too the kindly word, 
So gently spoke— so gladly heard, 

That sweetened every trial. 

A thousand thoughts flash o'er my brain. 
Reflecting back the scenes again, 

That leave me all alone; 
While echo unto echo cries, 
And answer unto answer dies. 

To echo still the groan. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



Then thou didst thy children cheer 
With all that hope could render here, 

Or feeling yet avow; 
Nor didst thou then the need forget, 
Nor stain the cheeks already wet, 

And I'll remember now. 

Still will luy memory love to keep, 
And cherish it a mem'ry deep, 

No other can erase, 
Of what thou wert in love to me, 
When as a child I bent the knee. 

Beneath thy smiling face. 

Again I see thee at my side. 

The mother love, the mother pride, 

O'er him thou didst adore. 
And from my soul there throbs the sigh, 
Responsive to the weeping eye. 

To feel 'tis so no more, 

I was thy child (though others, too, 
May claim that title as 1 do) ; 

The oldest and the first, 
That from thy blood in marriage grew. 
When love bequeathed the gentle dew. 

That honored bond immersed. 

And if I e'er upon thy brow, 
Engraved the lines distinguished now, 

Bv death and its decay; 
Then— O then— in lieu of this, 
I place upon thy lips the kiss, 

That sweeps them all away. 

And from the strings of melody, 
That chosen chords reserve for me, 

I sound this sacred tone: 
And weave it into happy song, 
That it may hymn thy praises long, 

And call it as thine own. 

And if in Heaven some receive 
The portion which they did believe. 

For duty done through care, 
It soothes my pang to know and feel. 
As with these words my song I seal. 

Then thou, art happy there. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 99 



EUREKA. 

O Mother ! could I be again, 

As I was once of yore, 
The babe that listened to the strain 

Thy lips were wont to pour 
Into my ears to lull my eyes, 
From all that would increase my cries. 

How happy I would be, 
But, ah ! the thought I must despise. 

Since thou art as I see. 

How oft against thy throbbing brow, 

I laid my weary head, 
To little think it should be now, 

A weeper o'er the dead, 
And such a way as thou hast died. 
Might tempt a saint to suicide. 

To feel and know thy loss. 
Since ne'er a son or daughter pride. 

Hath borne a greater cross. 

Tho' coldness forms thy mortal clay 

Thou art not dead to me, 
For still I see the distant day, 

I gathered round thy knee. 
And memory is backward borne, 
While hope "looks onward to the morn, 

When that again shall be. 
Nor must I now the sorrow mourn, 

Since thou art with the free. 

O be my prayer for thy soul ! 

In keeping with the thought, 
That tho' the years may o'er thee roll, 

No spot is milder sought. 
Than in the tomb that rears thy name 
Above the ones of kin or fame, 

To me so very dear, 
Where now I shed the tear of claim, 

That binds me ever here. 

Upon thy breast you rocked to sleep, 

This often saddened heart, 
And I will now the picture keep, 

That makes thee still a part 
Of love and joy and proud desire, 
And armed with all of holy fire. 

As true and deep as thine. 
For on that breast you woke the choir, 

That now shall echo mine. 



100 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



AN IDYLL OF THE DAY. 

Glory to the day so glorious ! Its gloriousness we glo- 
rify ! Its brightness is more brighter for being holy bright. 
The burnished sun, the mantling clouds, emblazoning the 
massy skies, array the emblems of supernal power. All 
Nature smiles, and its wombs, teeming with the produce 
of its pregnancy, herald the bounteous births to come. 
The air hath music, hymned by insect, bill, and plant, for 
the flower speaks no less palpably than the sound of song, 
and the rose's blush hath hues no articulation vies with. 

Here the sensitive and insentient, the boulder as the 
breeze, stamp the divineness of the time. The waters 
sleep— for the Avind, freighted with aroma of n thousand 
breaths, caroms high above its listless bosom. Why do we 
worship these scenes, and feel our souls strands of a cable — 
binding us to existences— that give the wish for others 
higher and more nobler still ? 

Answer is dumb, but our feelings echo 'tis the day — the 
pleasure day of God. The immaculate Sabbath — which 
stays the whirr of toil, and calls us to these pews, to survey 
who is, and why, there art a God; and hear the benediction 
of His praise. And shall our tongues be nameless, and our 
hearts a blank to cast no shade again ? No, let us tune our 
vocals, and aver, glory to the day so glorious, whose 
gloriousness we glorify, whose brightness is more brighter, 
for being holy bright. 



THERE WILL COME. 

Yes, there will come a time of awful power 
To all the World which ne'er was seen before, 

When all the firmament, like some magic bower, 
Will spread its wonders to be so no more. 

Then will an Angel, on a cloud of glory, 
Descend to earth in beauty and in pride, 

And wave the wand that tells to all the story. 
How all must gather to its summons wide. 

And when the trump shall blare the solemn sound 
That bids the deathless from their shrouds unwind, 

From every vestment and from every mound 
The soul will take its flight yet leave the dust behind. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 101 



I PASSED THEM BY. 

He passed nie by ! with a haughty eye, 

That I almost dreaded to see, 
And my blood ran cold ! at the thought of his gold, 

That made such a mocker of me. 

She passed me by ! with a pitying eye, 

Though she wore but a lowly dress. 
And my heart leaped up, like wine in a cup, 

To the thoughts that her thoughts confess. 

I passed them by ! in that portal high. 
Where the Cross compares the Crown, 

And I saw her blest ! with an AngePs crest, 
And he rebuked with a frown. 



DO NOT DESPAIR. 

Do not despair, lad, do not despair, 
Tho' you are tempted to folly from there; 

Do what you can. 

Do like a man, 
To conquer the burdens you bear. 

Do not despair, lass, do not despair, 

Tho' you are troubled with sorrow and care; 

Early and late. 

Seek to abate. 
And look for thy comfort in prayer. 

Do not despair though sinful you be, 
Do not despair though blackness you see; 

God will relieve. 

Make you achieve. 
All of His goodness for thee. 

So do not despair because of the past. 

But think what the future may better contrast- 

Rest will be found, 

Hope will be crowned, 
In the bright glory at last. 



102 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



I COULD. 

I could, had I the power 

Of Him who rules above, 
The darkest, saddest hour, 

Invest it with His love; 
For sorrows, throes, and shadows, 

And all their sinister train, 
I feel so many echoes, 

Impassioning my strain. 

I could, had I the power, 

Blot out the sin and blight 
That will so darkly lower 

Around the true and bright, 
And on the evil-minded 

Heap back their bitter bane, 
For justice stands determined 

And sanctions all my strain. 

I could, had I the power. 

Condemn them to despair. 
And make them feel the hour 

Of those once wont to bear. 
But then the thought of mercy 

Comes o'er me still again, 
In every hope and beauty 

And chastens down my strain. 

DIRGE. 

Let me wail, O God, 

Let me wail for my sins ! 

1 have great cause to mourn — 

Cause to be sad. 

Have I not offended Thee, 

Outlawed Thy good name, 

And trespassed on Thy Mercy ? 

Have I not — have I not ? 

What have I not been guilty of 

That is not vile and wicked ? 

Hear, O hear me in my agony ! 

For I suffer that which fiends 

But feel, and devils laugh to see ; 

My heart is base, my mind polluted, 

And my soul a hedge 

That holds the temptations 

Of every passing hour. 

Why should I not lament ? 

Then let me wail, O God ! 

And gnashing hide my head. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 103 



ALL HAIL THE GLORIOUS SCENE! 

All hail the glorious scene ! for see the heavens spread 
Their glories like a mantle in marvel overhead, 
For stars and moon are shining, the sentinels of the night, 
Where all the scene is lovely and all the scene is bright. 
All hail the glorious scene ! for now 'tis broadened day. 
And all the clouds have faded, like evening, faraway; 
And all the earth is covered with hues so fine and fair, 
Which as the gifts of nature are only witnessed there. 

All hail the glorious prospect ! see how the harvest grows. 
And fruit and grain are reddened, as now the zephyr blow^s, 
All waiting for the sickle at once so fit and keen. 
The burdens of their bounties to cultivate and glean. 
All hail the glorious scene ! for see the storm sublime. 
And note the scenes of winter contrasting those of time; 
When charmed by every vision our thoughts were prompted 

thus. 
All hail the glorious Donor who gives such things to us. 

All hail the glorious scene ! when gathered round His throne 
We hail the glorious spectacle that wholly is our own. 
Where palms are ever waving their odors in the light, 
And crowns are ever blazing their beauties pure and bright. 
All hail the glorious welcome ! that then shall all befall. 
Where welcome to the many is welcome to the all: 
When He who governs wiselv, so illustrious and serene. 
Shall list the glad Hosanna, All Hail ! The Sacred Scene. 



BRIGHT ARE THE DREAMS WE CHERISH. 

Bright are the dreams we cherish of those the gone before, 
Bright are the dreams we cherish, and from their hues re- 
store 
The broken links of memory that hover round the heart, 
That will not wholly sever, or from that fount depart. 

Bright are the dreams we cherish of friendship's simple 

smile 
That soothed our weary spirits in sorrow's darkest trial. 
Again that look is present, again that vision cheers. 
And we the thought awaking have traversed all the years. 

Bright are the dreams we cherish of fancy's dulcet tone, 
Tho' now the dream is broken, and all the charm is flown, 
But still around the shadow will linger sweetly yet 
Some echo of remembrance we cannot all forget. 



104 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



Bright are the dreams we cherish of when the heart was 

young, 
And every hope was golden and joy with beauty strung, 
And though they now are faded, there is a brighter far. 
In He who through His glory, we call the Morning Star. 



LIFE. 

Life — how like a river thou art ! 
The fountain, and the ocean, are its source 
And end, and the womb and the grave are thine. 
Many tributaries make its power, and 
The same make thine, but with a 
Different name. Now it rises in feebleness, 
And onward flows; until broad gushing- 
Through the plain, or round the cliff; 
Marks out the eddies and the deltas of its 
Path. So is thy source begun, and thy 
Deposits coming after thee, define the 
Boundaries of tliy course. But rivers are 
Mightiest merging with the sea; Avhile thou 
Art weakest when mingling with thy 
Native element. And it ofttimes hath many 
Entrances and but one exit, while thou 
Art just the reverse, for thou hast but one 
Entrance yet many exits. From the clouds 
Cometh its currents, and from the foam 
Of blood, mixed in the throes of passion, 
Cometh the form of thee. Now its course 
Is placid and impotent; shallow to the eye. 
Harmless to the venture. And now its 
Swelling's surges are lashed to the fury 
Of heights, and depths, by the winds of 
Wrath. So is thy sky, now calm, now fair. 
Or now the flux, and reflux of tides, that 
Baffles every skill to navigate. Thou art a 
Vessel, Life, helpless without the helm of 
Heaven. Thy past were nothing, and thy 
Future but the tomb, unless thy track be 
Shaped unto that Port, that beckon eth 
All to its anchorage, with the charm of 
Love, and hope, and progress; — for all must 
Perish who hath not made that realm 
Their home. 'Tis the law— the law divine 
For all, and must be obeyed, or wreak its 
Vengeance justly. But ye can escape, for 
The way is clear — see then ye do. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 105 



HYMN. 

Day by day is speeding, 

The swiftening steps of time, 
Now 'tis summer leading, 

Or now the winter clime. 
For morning brings the evening. 

And evening brings the night, 
And night its shadows leaving, 

Leads on the morning light. 

So are the thoughts of sorrow, 

So are the thoughts of joy, 
For now we hope the morrow. 

Or now that hope destroy. 
The clouds now gather brightly, 

Or now they're not so fair. 
Or now they shadow lightly, 

Or gather darkening there. 

For change is Nature's nature, 

And changes changing reign, 
We witness their departure, 

To bring them back again. 
So pale the gleams of glory. 

So are their charms unfurled 
Before the One whose story 

Electrifies the world, 



HYMN. 

Hark! from the distant spheres 

Cometh a sound, 
Filling my listening ears 

With a sweet bound. 
Over which memory dwells. 
Under which fancy swells. 
As it my longing tells. 

There I may stay. 

In that delight on high 

I shall be found. 
Where throbs no fostered sigh, 

Over the mound. 
There will all sorrow tears. 
There will all galling fears. 
From the remembered years 

Be banished away. 



106 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



ON A TEMPEST. 



What fear, subduing, and inspiring fear, and grandeur 
In the storm ! To see the clouds lower— to see them 
Roll their bannered hosts together, and drip their 
Harbored juices, is a charm, few charms compare 
With. And the lightning, that Titan of the elements — 
The wielder of the trident, whose electric spark doth 
Level the hoary battlements of nature, withering 
And blackening with a stroke— what emotion of 
The senses dost thou not give ! Now as a flash. 
We see thee illuminate the hidden towers of thy 
Haunts, or then again, thy presence is concealed, 
Until we see the ruin of thy track, and marvel 
On the current of thy devastation. What be ye, 
That gildeth the domes of warring centres, and lordeth 
O'er thy sway with the will of caprice or adjustment ? 
Conjecture only fathoms. For ye are the lance that 
Snivereth all before it. The intrepid courser of the 
Steppes of space, whose bridle is the shaft of freedom. 
The quick destroyer and consumer, too, of the stores 
Of time thou art— and that livid lava — the vomit 
Of the intestinal mysteries of existences that blasteth 
All it toucheth. Thou art the purveyor of the 
Sublime— the limner of the terrible— and in thy 
Rugged outlines, illustrating so grandly the scenery 
Of the invisible, we recognize a power over which 
Our use is frail. The mind halts to contemplate 
Thee, for ye are a pen that writest on a page 
Beyond our comprehension. And thy twin ally of 
Abodement— the mighty thunder— whose booming guns 
Are sounded by thy flame, when thy lit torch doth 
Fuse the chambers that doth charge it, to come 
Forth, and tone its echoes through the corridors 
Abroad. Be it thy rival— or thy master— to hush 
What ye exhibit, or but the substance of hoarded 
Powers vented by thy touch. Ye make the magazines 
Of the aerial, the forts, and buttresses, of the pervading :— 
And the weapons of the majestic, that mark the arts 
Below, but puny in comparison. Tumultuous elements ! 
How rapid thy development, how ceaseless thy energies ! 
In a twinkle thou art here— and in another, the 
Circuit of the globe is made, and thy bolts 
Hath scorched, and riven, the erections of the 
Lapse of ages. Such art thou, O lightning ! and 
Was, and will ever be. No change is seen in 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 107 



Thee, except the manner of thy course. For thou 

Art the sword of the indestructible, the oriflamme 

Of the unquenchable, and that foe of asperity. 

Whose very look doth humble all beneath it. 

Lo \ thy trumpeter cometh— the clarion of thy prowess— 

The emitter of thy breath ; the crashing, pealing thunder, 

Hurling out the challenge of its wrath. Terror roUeth 

From its tongue. All voices hush to list it, 

And the staunchest soul must own the knell it 

Leaveth. Behold thy audience in the swaying 

Forest, the tideless river, the quaking mountain, the 

Trembling valley, the cowering brute, and the 

Timid human. The wicked dread ye, and flee 

Ye, but there is music in thy sounds to they, 

That loveth good. Thy pulpits are the clouds, and 

Thou art an orator, whose forums thy hearers 

Cannot grasp. 

I own I love the tempest, for 
It makes another world to me : more congenial 
To my thoughts, than that meditative calm that 
Probes the heart to dissolution. For the howlmg 
Wind doth soothe me, and the driving surge 
Lend rapture to my eyes. Like ye, my life 
Was stormy, and my soul, scene swept, to 
Leave me nothing but a frame. Deeply was 
I pierced, but I repine not, for it has taught 
Me what no other teaching could impart ; but 
How— and what— my memory must be the tomb 
That giveth out no tale. 

There is a wonder 
In the name of Grod, that first our fear, 
And then our reason charuis— and surveying 
Here this elemental affinity — all in all — 
Who could conceive a more than He. our Deity. 



108 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



WHERE SPREADS THE VAULTS. 

Where spreads the vaults of burnished day, 

What charms the joys behold — 
The glowing sun whose beaming ray, 

Hath all the Heavens scrolled. 
So would I wish my heart to be. 

As yonder orb so fair; 
And mark in life, O Grod ! to Thee, 

A fount of glory there. 

Where spreads the vaults of lustrous night, 

Lo! how the wonder wakes, 
For now the moon is gleaming bright, 

Or now a shadow takes. 
So would 1 wish my soul to be, 

As yonder mellowed flame, 
A picture for the world to see. 

And in a golden frame. 

'TIS GLORY'S MORN. 

'Tis glory's morn, the sunlight streams 

Abroad throughout the east, 
And clearing clouds and brightened beams 

Proclaim the coming Priest. 
Streak on streak, of mingling tints, 

As various as their dye, 
The change of time at once imprints, 

And makes the morning sky. 

All nature springs to now embrace 

Its more than welcome guest. 
And shadows rush to hide their face. 

Or faintly blush the west. 
'Tis glory's morn, the shades have flown 

That once did shroud the past. 
And I a crown in glory own, 

For I am hence at last. 

WHEN ON MY HEART. 

When on my heart the echo falls. 

From mem'ry's dear beloved halls, 

I pause and seek to turn away. 

The sounds that then my thoughts would stay. 

But no, they will not then depart, 
For still they seek to charm the heart. 
And all their tones commingled seems, 
As songs amid delightful dreams. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 109 

And then I give a willing ear 
Unto the throbs retentive here. 
When Lo, and Lo, the name of God, 
Bursts from each note and waking chord. 

Then welcome all ye sacred refrains, 
Thrice welcome too, thy smiles or stains; 
For from my soul shall ne'er depart. 
Those echoes of glory, that joy the heart. 

AS BEAMS THE SUN. 

As beams the sun from out the depths 

Of morning's furthest verge. 
Where it has long in silence slept 

Upon the shadow's surge. 
So will my soul escape from night, 

And all its venal horde; 
When God ordains its holy flight. 

To share its high reward. 

As beams the sun abroad the earth, 

Above the shrouding palls. 
To give to all a higher worth, 

Where'er its splendor falls. 
So Avill my soul Avhen earthly free, 

When past the grave and shroud, 
Rise on the shafts of joy to thee, 

And struggle thro' the cloud. 

NOW LET ME FLY. 

Now let me fly this mortal vale, 

Where I have lived, and lived too long, 
Since from my hope the visions pale, 

And from my heart has died the song. 
Why should I wish to longer be 

A remnant of an ancient time. 
Which tho' it bloomed full sweet for me, 

Has faded ere it reached its prime. 

Nor wonder where I want to go, 

When I this vale of void shall leave, 
For still thro' fancy's channels flow, 

A scene that has no darkened eve; 
Then will my soul, released from chains, 

Mount o'er the valley, sail the tide, 
And reaching there where Jesus reigns. 

Embrace the crown for which He died. 



no DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



O MAY THERE BE. 

What so beautiful as the thought, of other worlds 
Than this, where we may dwell in peaceful bliss, for 
All the woe we suffered here. And why should there 
Not be ? Is earth alone for man, and must his race continue, 
Unplumed for other fights? What if this sky — this sky 
We see — of dome and verge, or vaultless with immensity, 
Apparelled with all her radiant robes, or sombre shrouds, 
As storm, or wind, now marshal her invariable hosts; 
And her bright ornaments of Sun, and Moon, and Stars, 
Dazzling, or dimming, its unbounded scrolls, were but 
The pictures of more distant spheres? 

All glorious spectacle ! 
How the heart sublimes on beholding thee, for what could 
Be like ye, except the vision of the nobler life ye bring ? 
And why should it not be so, we do not know — 
For answer, nor echo, give no heed, approaching to our need. 
But in this libation, which our spirits pour, which 
Takes the shape of longing, and from that to wish 
Again, Thou wilt receive, O Deity, our Eucharist 
Of Faith, telling Thee we trust to believe— 
And believing to receive, already links our future there. 



WOULDST THOU? 

O wouldst thou go a roving, and wouldst thou ever dwell, 
In lands more blest and mystic than any fairy spell, 
Where fountains ever glisten with amber-colored wine, 
And all beseems enchantment from being made divine ? 

O wouldst thou find the panacea that every ailment heals. 
Where strains of angel music along the senses steals, 
And where the stars together like a jeweled crest's design, 
Blaze their glad Hosannas because they are divine? 

O come, then, where the lilies are dripping o'er with dew, 
O come, then, where the sunbeams are pleading joy for you, 
O come where wreaths of glory like sparkling emeralds shine, 
O come where all is lovely and everything divine. 

O come where night and morning are but a pleasant dream, 
O come where soothing radiance is all that it does seem. 
'Tis where no restive spirit can ever more repine. 
The land which God created and Christ has made divine. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 111 



HYMN. 

He is all earthly power, 

He blooms from every tree, 
His throne is every shower, 

His couch is all the sea ; 
'Tis Thou whom now we worship, 

O Thou ! who art divine. 
In every tie of kinship, 

That makes the human Thine 

Where'er the lightning flashes, 

Where'er the billow rolls, 
Where'er the thunder crashes, 

Or Heaven opes its scrolls, 
His is the crowning wonder, 

His is the softening peace. 
And His the name to ponder, 

To bid all sorrows cease. 

His is the heavenly glory 

That all our thought extols, 
And His the sweetest story 

That mantles round the soul's; 
And night may dim its beauty. 

Or day its colors lose. 
But none can shroud His mercy, 

Or shrimp His sacred hues. 



HYMN. 

High in that region, 

Where love only dwells. 
Where angels are legion, 

And music, sweet swells, 
There I have fancied. 

There I have dreamed, 
I may be carried 

From bondage redeemed. 

And yet to be present 

In that happy goal, 
I know I must absent 

All sin from my soul ; 
So unto its Prelate, 

I cry be benign, 
And liow immolate 

My spirit in Thine. 



112 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



I DREAMT I SAW. 

I dreamt I saw a splendid crown, 

The laurel of the hero's, 
Upon the brow of famed renown, 

And glory was the warrior's. 

I dreamt I saw amid the scenes. 

Of all that pride delightest, 
The homage paid to noble miens. 

And beauty's was the brightest. 

I dreamt I saw a silken robe, 

Resplendent with its jewels. 
Which wealth had gathered o'er the globe 

To show that power rules. 

I dreamt I saw these all arrayed 

Before the heavenly manor, 
Where each in turn their worth portrayed, 

But Virtue held the honor. 



THERE COMES A TIME. 

There comes a time when we nmst flee 

This all too mortal scene. 
When we of life again shall be, 

And with an angel's mien. 

Farewell, O earth ! I then shall say, 
With more than wonted pride. 

Farewell, farewell, I would not stay, 
But in that garb reside. 

Then on the wings of holiest love, 

Triumphant over death, 
How shall my soul its nature prove, 

How shall I be in faith. 

Up to the realms where dwelleth God, 
AVho waits for me to come. 

There shall I fly for my reward. 
And make that place my home. 

And I will bless the fiat just, 

Ordained alone by Thee, 
Which melts this frame again to dust, 

And leaves my spirit free. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 113 



CHANT. 

I come, great God of heaven, a wanderer to thy shores, 
I come, great God of heaven, a beggar with his sores: 
Look not upon my folly with anger or with doom, 
But give a leper courage, and give a leper room ; 
For there are many mansions across the raging sea. 
And one is built for mercy, and one is built for me. 

grant me but Thy freedom this birthright to proclaim, 
That I am made an heir and power to Thy name, 

And show the cause to others where I received the source, 
And tell them of the promise, and tell them of the cross ; 
For o'er the heaving billows that bind my soul from thee, 
There is a crown of glory and that is meant for me. 

1 come, great God of Heaven, a Palma in Thy sight, 
For lo ! my eyes are opened and on me breaks the light, 
The faith is now triumphant that never felt before. 
That Thou could'st be the soother of all that chafed of yore ; 
Then hear a beggar's blessing who deems this change divine, 
Who chants the songs of Zion which ever shall be Thine. 



O TARRY NO LONGER. 

O tarry no longer ! thou wanderer from God, 
O tarry no longer ! thou child of the sod, 

From glory, from heaven, and home. 
When all that could tempt thee with virtue's reward 

Doth beckon so pleading to come. 

Why stray from the fold that is shelter to you ? 
Why linger from mercy so gentle to do ? 

The power of grace in thy heart. 
That gives thee a spirit so sacred and true, 

To conquer each sorrow and smart. 

Then haste to the cross that is gleaming on high — 
That comfort, that refuge, to which you may fly 

Without any shadow of fear. 
For millions before thee now gladden the sigh 

That once was the throb of the tear. 

So tarry no longer, but come to the lamb, 
Where Jesus delighting shall whisper I am 

The fountain of pleasure and life, 
And then thou shalt echo the sweetly-loved psalm, 

Of victory o'er sadness and strife. 
8 



114 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



HYMN. 

O let us love Thee, mighty God 1 

And let our homage raise, 
And let our eyes to hope restored, 

Behold Thee while we praise. 
O let us bless Thy holy name, 

And let us still adore 
The gentle love tha.t can inflame 

Our spirits more and more. 

O let us shout the sacred songs, 

That we from Thee dovise ! 
That will salute the angel throngs, 

And hail the starry skies. 
O let us tarry at Thy f eot, 

And feel it sweet to kneel, 
And let us still the vow repeat 

That sanctions what we feel I 

O let us bend the lowly head, 

That grace to still receive ! 
That unto joy is happy led, 

To never, never leave. 
O let us move the hardest hearts, 

To share and own Thy love ! 
And let us be the spring that starts 

Some soul to Thee above. 



HYMN. 

O God I thy devotion, 

I feel as a tone, 
Stilling all motion, 

That would it dethrone, 
Quelling all lurking fear, 
Bringing Thy counsel near. 
Till I am gladly here, 

Wholly Thy own. 

O then let me worship 

Thy glory as mine. 
Ere claiming the kinship. 

That makes it divine: 
Then in Thy noble skies, 
Lustrous with Angel eyes. 
All other sacrifice, 

It may outshine. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 115 



FAIR AS THE FLOWER. 

Fair as the flower that bloometh there 

Upon the verdant field, 
O let me, God, my soul prepare, 

And all my incense yield. 
No desert there is witnessed nigh, 

No cloud its shadow rears, 
And yet upon that summit high, 

Are shed, how many tears ! 

Not all that's good must come from joy, 

Nor all that's pure bring peace. 
Lest the deluge the founts destroy, 

And splendor, splendor's cease. 
Then let me harbor this belief, 

And soothe it to my breast. 
To find some hope at last from grief, 

On which my longings rest. 



COME, GLORIOUS STAR. 

Lo ! see the star, that shines afar, 

Heraldic of the night, 
Which tells the earth, of He whose birth 

Shall all the world delight. 
Lo! see the sky, 
Abroad and high, 
Reflect the eye. 

One blaze of light. 

Come, glorious star, come as you are I 

The power and the dawn 
That o'er the soul, shall ope the scroll 

Of Heaven's holier morn. 
For now its beams. 
Mixed with thy streams, 
In glory seems, 

Already born. 

Resplendent star, that gleaming far, 

In all the vaulting jet. 
Come thro' the skies, the sacrifice 

On which our hopes are set. 
Beneath thy wings 
The transport brings. 
The psalm it sings, 

Without regret. 



116 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



O COME, BE MY THOUGHT. 

O come, be my thought, O Thou spirit divine ! 

Whom the nations will worship and praise. 
O come to the soul that is seeking for Thine, 

To show me the truth of Thy ways. 
When shook by the grief that will heavily fall 

On the heart that is trusting and leal, 
O come ! be the thought that can call Thee the all, 

That such sorrow can soothe and conceal. 

O come, be my thought, Thou redeemer of sin ' 

That washeth the crime from its stain, 
No matter how crimson the spot is within, 

No matter how potent its reign. 
O come ! be my thought in the hour of prayer, 

When childlike I bow the low knee. 
When thought like an incense ascends to Thee there, 

Where Thou art the vision I see. 

O come, be my thought, when the frowns of the world, 

Their arrows sweep over my head, 
When the darts that the changes of fortune have hurled, 

Would leave me to be as the dead. 
And ere on the bier my body shall lie, 

E're my breath from my spirit be flown, 
O then ! with the thought that will sanction my cry, 

O leave me not wholly alone. 

THERE DWELLETH A LAND. 

There dwelleth a land in the visions of glory, 
A land that is covered with honey and wine, 

A land where the echoes of song and of story. 
Tell of the reasons that made them divine. 

There I have fancied my longings reposing, 
There I have fancied these chafings at rest, 

That stir in the bosom without any closing, 
Except that fond Idol that hides in the breast. 

There dwelleth a land, the land of my yearning. 
Where Angels serenely together now dw^ell, 

To that in my hope and my spirit I'm turning. 
The land of my journey that seemeth so well. 

Haste then, O death, in thy quickness of power. 
And bear to that region where glances my eye, 

It matters but little the way or the hour, 
If only directed to thee I may fly. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 117 



SONG. 

How pleasantly the years go by, 
When we live as we would die, 
Joy goes by with fleeting wing, 
Every hope we feel we sing, 
While the years go by. 

While the years go rolling by. 
Grief is charmed from every sigh, 
Every foe we make a friend, 
Reaping blessings without end, 
While the years go by. 

Such is e'er the Christian's way, 

While the years go by, 
Doing all that duty may, 
While the years roll l3y, 

Loving neighbors as our kin, 
Giving good to lessen sin, 
O ! what ecstasy to feel 
Even sorrow has its weal, 
While the years roll by. 

And ere in death we coldly lie, 
O ! what peace thro' mercy's tie, 
Knowing we have made it well, 
Suffered some to conquer hell. 
While the years roll by. 

IF YONDER LIES. 

If yonder lies, as oft I dream, 

A world beyond this world of tears 
Where hope can there in truth redeem 

The woe that marked with grief my years. 
Then I can bear while I am here. 

The things that to my lot befall, 
The pang, remorse, the shock, the fear. 

That will the heart with sorrow thrall. 

I would not care to live again, 

Unless that place a boon supplied 
To heal the wrong I knew in pain, 

To soothe the loss that seared my pride ; 
Then may this soul put forth the crave. 

Above the thought of this despair, 
And mercy call me from the grave. 

Its joys of peace to give and share. 



118 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



PSALM. 

Freed from the worldly thought, 

Jesus I see ; 
That which did only thwart. 

Glory from me ; 
But now I tear off the mask, 
That did my reason task, 
To of Thy mercy ask — 

O! bury my sorrows in Thee. 

Then with that mingled grace, 

Now will I twine, 
Hope — love in every trace 

Joy can consign. 
Now too my thoughts arise, 
Now too my prayers devise, 
This plea of sacrifice — 

O cover my spirit with thine. 



A PRECEPT. 

The sky is shining brightly, 

The sky is dull and drear, 
The heart is bounding lightly. 

Or now 'tis clad in fear. 
And O! how like the hour 

Of life and all its range. 
For now joy is the power, 

Or now grief is the change. 

For there are gleams of pleasure, 

And there are shades of pain. 
As foul or fair we measure 

The links of memory's chain ; 
The ivy runs to flower, 

No matter what would stay. 
The ivy climbs the tower, 

Where all is but decay, 

And green we see it flourish, 

And green we see it bear, 
Because all objects nourish. 

Despite the ruins there ; 
Then be this our example. 

When fortune smiles or frowns, 
To look not on the temple. 

But on the dome that crowns. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 119 



IT NOW IS EASTER. 

It now is Easter, and we bring, 
The season's offerings, while we sing, 
Of Him, who rose from out the tomb, 
To change a World's portending doom. 

It now is Easter, and our hearts. 
The incense of their love imparts, 
And of our souls we make a shrine: — 
Whereon we worship Him divine. 

It now is Easter, and the morn — 
Doth tell of gladness newly born: 
Of hope, and cheer, to darkened lives, 
That 'gainst the evil vainly strives. 

It now is Easter, then let it be, 
A time of peace to thee and me. 
And from its birth a blessing make 
To all we know just for His sake. 

It now is Easter, let the bells. 
Peal forth their all-delightful swells, 
Until the merry mingled chimes: 
The calling of the day sublimes. 

It now is Easter, the joy proclaim, 
In reverence of His holy name, 
So that the sinner's trust may bloom; 
Despite the things that darkly loom. 

It now is Easter, raise your song, 
And echo it in chorus long, 
And let it be a gladsome strain. 
Knowing naught of death again. 

It now is Easter, and the life — 
Of grace triumphant crowns the strife, 
For from the past, we know and feel; 
There is no ill but he can heal. 

It now is Easter, when Christ awoke. 
From deathful slumbers, and the yoke, 
Away was cast, till never more. 
Can sin be as it was before. 

It now is Easter, come and praise, 
The One who gave it with thy lays. 
And at His feet the tributes strew: — 
To show 'tis joyed, and owned by you. 



120 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



HYMN. 

When this temple fadeth, 

When its breath decays, 
And the eye is shaded, 

Never more to raise, 
O I may then I enter, 

Heaven's sylvan scene, 
Where there is no winter, 

Where the heart is green. 

O! all glorious portal. 
Where my thoughts arise, 

Make me then immortal, 
Dwelling in thy skies. 

Fondly I am gazing. 

On the prospect there. 
Where so brightly blazing, 

All is pure and fair. 
There the tear in lustre, 

Shines above the sigh, 
And the blessed cluster, 

Never more to die. 

O! most beautiful portal, 
So charming to my eyes, 

Make, O make, immortal. 
When my body dies. 



ECHO. 

Amid all the clusters 

That spangle the sky, 
More brilliant than others, 

One cluster is nigh. 
And this doth remind 
My soul that was blind, 
The star of the heavens is Jesus. 

To Him then I render 

From memories that be, 
This tribute I tender 
As tribute from me, 
I feel this wish granted 
When arrows are planted, 
O centre my spirit in Thee ! 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 131 



HYMN. 

O teach me! Lord, Thy love to hallow 
From all that would be vile and vain, 

O teach me! Lord, Thy love to follow 
Where'er it leads, o'er mount or main. 

O teach me! Lord, to name Thy love 
When other loves are sounded near, 

O let me then ! Thy love above 
All other praise speak bold and clear. 

teach me! Lord, with that same grace 
That bade my soul from sin be free. 

Teach to the dying soul the face 
That Thou has taught my eyes to see. 

1 care not. Lord, the world's opinion. 
How they may smile or sneer at me. 

For I shall share Thy bliss dominion, 
If all my life but pleases Thee. 



THE SKY WAS BRIGHT. 

The sky was bright — the sky was fair, 

The sky was clouded, too. 
And seldom hath the zenith there 

Assumed a deeper blue. 

And yet beyond the range of light, 

Beyond this radiant scene, 
The pall of storms, the shade of night, 

In all their glooms were seen. 

The sky was dull — the sky was dark. 
The sky was bleak and drear. 

And overhead the eye could mark 
No sign of welcome near. 

And yet beyond this place of gloom. 
Beyond the tempest's home, 

The face of nature wears a bloom, 
And rays of splendor come. 

And if this life be like the skies. 
Where now the shadows furl, 

Above its sphere another lies. 
Where all the sky is pearl. 



122 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



STANZAS. 

I have a wish, Thou all-protecting Father, 

I have a wish I humbly to Thee tell, 
It is that when in praise to Thee I gather 

Thy Sacred spirit would with my spirit dwell. 
O! quicken then the impulse of my feeling 

That courses thro' the chambers of my heart, 
To worship Thee, till Thou art all the healing, 

That longing anguish can to its hope impart, 
And like the bird, whose rapid-soaring flight, 

Doth from the earth delight to Heaven flee, 
O! plume my wings to reach that haloed height 

And let me sing my praises adoringly for Thee. 



O PALE ARE THE DAYS. 

O pale are the days! that I lingering know, 

To the ones that once beamed with the warmth of their 

glow. 
When my yearning beat high and my ardor was charmed. 
And the joy of the moment my fancy embalmed ; 
When thought like a summer was pleasant to view, 
And the scenes of the distant were robed in its hue. 

How pale are the days, for their colors have fled. 
Their garlands are withered, their odors are dead, 
And the shadows of darkness loom low in the sky ; 
To sadden the spirit and shudder the eye, 
And the fancies that buoyed my hopes from despair. 
Are broken, and scattered, and vanished like air. 

O pale are the days, how— alas ! I repine, 

The joys that are banished and the grief that is mine, 

For the morning is ended and the coming of night. 

Reveals to my sorrow but anguish and blight ; 

And wherever I look 'tis a fearful contrast, 

This gloom of the future with the rays of the past. 



OVER THE DISTANCE. 

Over the distance that now I am viewing. 

There comes to my fancy a vision of peace. 
Where we who in spirit our faith are renewing, 

May find from all sorrow a joyful release. 
For why should we linger in longing and sadness. 

Why should we mourn what we cannot retrieve, 
When there awaits us a pathway of gladness. 

Blissful to enter and reluctant to leave. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 133 



There may the weeper, no longer repining, 
View the great fount that will soften their tears, 

And there will the sun of eternity shining, 
Banish the shadows that sorrowed our years. 

ANTHEM. 

See, mantling all the morning sky, 
And mounting up the Orient high, 

The star of light and love, 
Which comes, the usher of the dawn, 
To say the Son of man is born. 

From hope decreed above. 

It hath arose— hath rose— hath rose, 
It hath rose— arose— arose, 

The star- the star— the star, 

Whose glories ne'er shall pale. 

O! welcome be thy beaming bright, 
O! welcome too thy sacred hght, 

That flushes all the soul ; 
O may thy beams be brightly cast. 
Effulgent o'er the gloomy past, 

Where'er thy waves can roll. 

Which hath come— hath come— hath come, 
Which hath come— and come— and come, 

The star of joy and truth. 

To save the perishing world. 

STANZAS. 

Thou! the bestower of the need. 
That we may in repentance plead, 

If on Thy name we call, 

1 would Thy counsel e'er obey, 
And follow in the chosen way. 

That owns Thee Lord of all. 

I fear not to endure Thy frown. 
Since it may more instructive crown. 

My ardor with the trial ; 
So be Thy anger to my heart, 
Or e'en the pang that spreads the dart. 

As welcome as Thy smile. 
Then when I stand before the throne. 
Which all must face and come to own 

The sovereign Mali of Thee, 
May it remind Thee of the prayer, 
That Thou didst promise shouldst be there 

My joy and ransom be. 



124 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



THE HEART DROOPS LOW. 

The heart droops low, the heart droops faint, 

Before the many woes 
That on my hope their colors paint 

And round my vision close. 

I strive to stem the rushing floods 

That o'er me will descend, 
And from their torrents pour the moods 

That could my griefs befriend. 

Yet all were vain, the effort nought, 

But leads me on to gloom, 
And like a wish bereft of thought, 

I bow to meet my doom. 

Yet like a tint amid the spray, 

When from the torrent thrown, 
I let my spirit touch the ray. 

And still the comfort own. 

Full many a path of joy begun, 

Has ended in despair. 
And many a morn of darkened sun. 

But left a brighter there. 

Then let this teach me to despise, 

The things that may prevail, 
Look o'er the shadows to the skies, 

And bid my courage Hail. 

O GLORIOUS DAY! 

O glorious day ! what charms unfold 

Before thy rapturous eye, 
For see the sky aflame with gold 

And not a cloud is nigh. 
The sun in splendor sheds its beams 

Abroad the dewy earth, 
And tree and flower awake from dreams. 

To take a fresher birth. 

O glorious day ! how fair to see 

Thy glory hither cast. 
It cheers the eye on land or sea 

Fo? all the umbrage past. 
O may my soul, when night is (/er 

And must be newer born, 
On wings of joy as purely soar, 

And tinted like thy morn. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 125 



HOW BLITHELY I WANDERED. 

How blithely I wandered as forth to the bowers, 

Of summer with fancy on pleasure I strayed, 
The dew lay like pearls on the leaves and the flowers. 

And with that sweet nectar the vintage was sprayed. 
I noted the scenes of the morning with gladness, 

How the clouds in their freshness rose high in the sky, 
Nor dreamt of the visions of darkness and sadness. 

That o'er me in winter should gather and fly. 

How sadly I wandered when homeward returning. 

To think of the beauties my progress had known, 
For dim in its socket my spirit was burning. 

And the joys of the season forever had flown. 
I wantoned, I wasted the favors of summer, 

Till autumn crept on with its fogs and its rain, 
And the harvests abounding for virtue to number, 

Were left by my folly to rot on the plain. 



HARK TO THE TIMBRELS! 

Hark, hark to the timbrels ! how over the sea 
Their music doth whisper of gladness to me ! 

So sweetly, so solemn to hear. 
Seemingly beckoning my spirit to be. 

One more of that choral so dear. 

For ransomed together they echo the tone, 
Of glory to Jesus, and Jesus alone, 

For all of their praises and joy. 
Around the great altar whose power they own, 

Which nothing could stain or destroy. 

White-robed as the Angels, the players there stand ; 
There garlands above them, their harps in their hands, 

As that picture immortal to see. 
Supreme in the service that maketh that band, 

The bond of the pure and the free. 

O hark to the timbrels ! whose murmur divine 
Now mingle so softly in pleasure with mine. 

For I am at last over there, 
Where safe from the noises that earthly repine 

Its glory I worship, its rapture I share. 



136 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINOS 



O LET ME LOOK. 

let me look, dear Jesus, 
When I am low in faith, 

Upon Thy mercy precious. 
And rise again from death. 

And when so prone to sorrow, 
I murmur its decree. 

From all that tempts the morrow. 
O let me look to Thee. 

Beyond this vale of burden. 
There dwells another land. 

That is the only guerdon. 
On which my longings stand. 

1 would then Thou devising, 
To meet that solemn day, 

From all that is enticing, 

turn me now away. 

And, O! when I am dying. 

And clammy sets my brow, 
Remember Thou the crying 

1 utter plaintive now. 
From every false endeavor, 

From all I pining see, 
O let me wholly sever. 
And look away to Thee. 



PSALM. 

The moon in the zenith 

How splendid to see, 
With nothing that screeneth, 

Its glory from me. 
When by its side raising 
As if fondly gazing. 
Some lodestar is blazing. 
Illuming the compass around. 

O be my religion 

As pure and as bright. 
As those in that region 

Of rapture and light. 
Dwelling beyond compare, 
Beacon and beauty there, 
In its own holy air, 
Companions of Heaven and God. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 12^ 



HYMN. 

Come, ye proud science, 
Come ye and change, 

This my defiance 
In thy revenge; 

Tell mo the world is nought, 

Never by heaven wrought, 
Still with my spirit 

Believe ye in vain. 

O come, ye afflictions 

Of all I must meet, 
O come, ye restrictions, 

On all I entreat. 
O come, ye and threaten, 
Come bare thy dread weapon, 

Still with my spirit, 
Hope to the last. 



HYMN. 

Beyond this vale tho' dark it reigneth. 

With all that swells the thought with fear. 
One hope at last in pride remaineth, 

For all the doubt delivered here. 
And that is time is just divided, 

No night without an equal day, 
And if the sea flows on unguided, 

The ebb will bear the fault away. 

Then why should I imbibe but poisons, 

And vent the sigh alone that mourns. 
When far beyond this world's horizons, 

A life more bright in wonder dawns. 
I want not ease without the labor 

That may have earned those halts of time, 
I want not gift without the favor 

That will the will and deed sublime. 

I want not light without the promise 

That I will trust when all is dark, 
I want not faith without the justice 

That I have helped that faith to mark. 
For shade and shadow, beam and blankness. 

Smiles, eclipses, pangs, and tears, 
Gathered make from scents and rankness, 

The sacred vintage of all our years. 



128 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



O THOU. 

O Thou— O Thou Eternal Power, abroad we see 

Thy name, where'er we look. In the running- water, 

As in the sand, we trace Thy way— Thy life— Thy love ; 

And in the air, as below the earth, all things 

Foretell, and write Thy governing will. 

O Thou — O Thou — who art as no other art. 

We see the Clouds thy thrones— the Sea thy sceptre— 

The Mounts Thy temples — the Woods Thy harps — 

And the Winds their solemn or now melodious tones. 

O Thou— O Thou, the Rainbow is Thy smile, the Storm 

Thy frown— the Volcano Thy breath— the Iceberg 

Thy plume— the Lightning Thy spear— the Thunder 

Thy trumpet — the Sun Thine eye, the Moon 

Thy halo— and the Stars the jewels of Thy robe— 

Wliich is the Firmament itself. 

O Thou— O Thou— Thou overcometh us with 

Wonder and with adoration. And from our 

Feeling, and our fancy, ascends the echoes — 

O Thou— O Thou— O Thou— who filleth all the world— 

Who nothing else can be but God — Almighty God; 

We bow in love to Thee, singing glory to 

Thy hallowed name. Amen. 



HIGH, HIGH IN THE HEAVENS. 

High, high in the heavens was seen in the morning, 

A star of such splendor, such presence and awe, 
That those who beheld it their vision adorning. 

Confessed to its beauty and bowed as they saw. 
Like a halo of glory it hung in the heaven, 

And shed its effulgence bright beaming the plain, 
And morning and evening to them it M^as given. 

Who came but to wonder and worship again. 

And there as the herald of Heaven it glistened, 

Till forth from the manger the Saviour was born, 
His mission was given, his coming was christened, 

And darkness was lost in the light of the dawn. 
O star of the vision ! so proudly careering, 

Tho' others eclipse thee in power and fame, 
Still will I own thee to my spirit endearing. 

The highest in glory and the sweetest in name. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 129 



WHAT CHARMS BEHOLDS. 

What charms beholds the watching eye 

Expanding on the gaze, 
When morning tips the opening sky, 

With all its golden blaze ! 
The azure deep, the cloud arrays, 

Of every size and liue, 
The handiwork of joy portrays, 

And holds the raptured view. 

There is a softness round the scene, 

That with our faith accords. 
Enchanting still the hope serene, 

To think they all are God's ; 
And echo dwells, and sweetly dwells, 

More and more divine. 
Upon the wish that thought compels. 

To think they may be mine. 

HOW SHINES THE MOON. 

How shines the moon, how bright and clear, 

Above the clouded sky. 
Where wind and wrath by turns appear, 

To dress the seeing eye ; 
What motion sways the striving storm. 

What power keeps it calm, 
Swift to our thoughts the scenes inform, 

The One our hearts embalm. 

How shines tlie moon, how still and white. 

With not a cloud around. 
Yet underneath the lightning's light, 

And thunder's peal their sound ; 
And may my soul as soft and bright, 

As pure, as calm, as fair, 
Shine on in glory's ransomed height, 

With Christ to keep it there. 

POWER AND PATIENCE. 

I saw the eagle scale the blast, 

In all its pinioned pride. 
And then I saw it downward cast, 

To nurse a bleeding side. 

I saw the vessel ride the wave. 

With lofty spar and sail. 
And then I saw it seek the grave, 

While o'er it shrieked the gale. 



130 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



I saw a worm, a tiny worm, 

Along the highway crawl, 
And in its haven slowly squirm, 

Though wounded by a fall. 

Nor as the eagle or the ship. 
Would I my strength affirm, 

But holding on when prone to slip, 
And patient as the worm. 

NOW PALES THE DAWN. 

Now pales the dawn before the noon, 

That o'er creation blushed, 
And that in turn is clouded soon. 

As yon the shadows rushed. 
Pale, O pale, thou transient time, 

So full of shade and light, 
What orders in their varied clime, 

Chase on the wondering sight. 

Yet let me pause to still survey 

This glorious, glorious scene, 
And ponder, too, that closing day, 

That must these beauties glean. 
It is enough— since all must change. 

And perish as the sky, 
The thought will not be fancied strange, 

I am content to die. 

THE EBB AND FLOW. 

My life, O Lord, was like the tide. 

That hurries to the sea, 
I let the winds of nature guide, 

Without a heed from Thee ; 
On many a shore its billows dashed, 

And many a charm despoiled, 
With many a rock its currents clashed, 

And many a beauty soiled. 

But now, since now, I come to own 

A boundary to its tides, 
There is a calmness o'er it thrown, 

That all its haste subsides ; 
Its backward course has now been set. 

And from all passion riven. 
And I would it with Thine be met, 

To bear it on to Heaven. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 131 



SORROW, SWEET SORROW. 

sorrow, sweet sorrow, thou seal of my bosom, 
Tho' often Fve suffered the sting of thy thorn, 

There still was an odor from out the crushed blossom, 
That scented the ruin however forlorn. 

1 knew that the power that wielded the weapon 
That pierced me, and bruised me, almost to despair. 

Was sent as an Angel of mercy from Heaven, 
To save me from others less gentle to spare. 

I knew that the wound that was justfully given. 

Could also be healed by the touch of the chord, 
That echoed the tone when so fearfully riven. 

Of joy from the sadness such feelings afford. 
And so like a martyr, I yielded permission. 

Nor murmured one sigh, at the fate of my lot. 
For all of these lessons that taught me submission, 

1 never regretted or wished they were not. 

I've proved that the heart may be frozen and broken, 

I've proved that the soul can be mantled with jjain. 
But by the same dower that renders this token, 

We rise from our ashes more perfect again. 
Let others exult in the virtues of pleasure, 

Let others the gifts of their calling portray. 
But I have an honor more dearer than treasure. 

In sorrow, sweet sorrow, my comfort and stay. 



I HEARD A SWEET SOUND. 

I heard a sweet sound as in silence I slumbered. 
When thought from the presence of trembling was free, 

And all of my vision the chorus then numbered, 
'Twas Heaven, sweet Heaven, forever to be. 

I had a high hope as I mused on the hour, 
When I from this vestment should sever and flee, 

And allot my spirit it charmed with its power. 
Of Heaven, high Heaven, for Jesus and me. 

I had a dear dream, 'twas the absent recalling. 
Forbidden by death but in longing to see, 

Which brought to my senses those features installing. 
Dear Heaven, dear Heaven, thro' glory and thee. 

I heard these in fancy, I had them in feeling, 
No less than the echoes that carried their sound. 

And woke from the mem'ry that thro' me was stealing, 
To cry with a gusto my treasures I've found. 



133 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



THE THOUGHT THAT ALL MY SPIRIT STIBBED. 

I dreamt before my spirit came 

A vision dark and bright, 

That stirred my thoughts in slumber's hght, 
To learn that vision's name. 
Again I saw that image there, 

In wonder's dreaming tryst. 

When Lo ! the cross of martyred Christ 
Dawned from that shape of air. 

But where, O where, O where was He ? 

My spirit anxious sighed. 

And naught unto my plea replied, 
But that He died for tliee. 
And echo to my fancy given, 

Accented on my startled ear. 

If thou wouldst know w^hy absent here, 
Go seek thy Lord in Heaven, 

How like that sign upon the wind, 

AVhere shadows smile and frown, 

We fly to where awaits the crown. 
Yet leave our cross behind. 
O! that my sins Thy love couldst see, 

Couldst claim but what atones, 

Until my soul with rapture owns, 
For he hath died for me, 



WHEN MUSIC FILLS THIS LOWLY VALE. 

When music fills this lowly vale 

With sounds it never heard before, 
And there shall cease the anguished wail. 

The sigh, the sob, the sufferer bore, 
Oh, with what eyes I then shall gaze 

Up from the grave upon that sphere, 
Where mercy turns its brightened blaze, 

To smile away the mourner's tear. 

When fragrance sweeps the musty tomb, 

Where all of love was once enshrined, 
And from the dust the soul shall bloom, 

To other realms to be consigned. 
O how shall haste my lightened feet, 

To reach the shore, w^here God, thou art. 
Thy love — my All — fore'er to meet. 

And soundthe song that swells my heart. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 133 



O DO THOU. 

O do Thou, God, when sad at heart, 

When weak in will to bear, 
The bitter things that leave a smart, 

Upon the feelings there: 
O do thou, then, with all thy grace, 

Imparted round my own, ' 
Bid my spirit take its place. 

Around Thy sacred throne. 

And when beneath some weight I bow, 

Some stroke I fain would shun. 
To shed the tears that drooping low, 

Like streams of anguish run: — 
With joy that loves Thy love to prove, 

Which Thou but canst impart. 
In all that tells the soul of love. 

Then found my yielding heart. 



HOW VAIN IT WERE. 

How vain it were to think or feel. 

That life can all the charms restore, 
Which youth to hope did once reveal, 

And treasured as its dearest store. 
For time will come athwart the dream, 

And cloud the thought it deemed so fair, 
Where joy, and faith, too often seem, 

To mock the heart that keeps them there. 

Alas the change that then will shade 

Our wishes with its sullen cast, 
When smile, when song, our former trade, 

Are ever from our longing past; 
We droop, we sink, no more to rise, 

Before the blow that deadly falls. 
And mem'ry's wish and memhy's eyes 

But look alone thro' echo's halls. 

Yet may the tomb revive our dust. 

And form anew our shattered wings; 

When to creation boundless springs. 
Our dreams again, again our trust; 
Then may we cling with fervid hands, 

When we at last are ferried o'er. 
That narrow stream, where Fancy stands, 

And Mercy smiles a hope no more. 



134 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



VALEDICTION. 



Farewell to the dreams I so fervently cherished, 
When pride like a minion, rejoiced in their bloom. 

Their fancies are faded, their visions have perished, 
To come as the Phoenix from ashes and gloom. 

Long, long, have I followed the ranks of the evil. 
To trophy the banners that over me flew, 

To riot gave honor, to passion gave revel, 
And now without sorrow I wave them adieu. 



Their bugles may echo the paeans of glory, 
And charm the vain ardor not knowing their call, 

But O, in my soul there re-echoes the story 
Of how I am happy and triumphant o'er all. 

Come gloom, or come glory, wherever I wander, 
Come shadow, or sorrow, to sully my name. 

Still will that power compose me to ponder. 
Of how I was lifted from bondage and shame. 

Farewell, O thou sin, and when memory rallies 
Her hosts to the scenes of thy conquests again, 

O let me remember, thy summits and valleys 
As but the reflections that sounded thy strain. 

The shield is now shattered that listed its journey, 
The spear is now blunted that pointed before, 

And like a proud noble laid low in the tourney, 
I come to my Master, the spoils of the war. 

Farewell, O farewell ! once more let me echo, 
That loved strain of mercy now echo again. 

For now and forever my soul is the hero. 
To serve in the cause of the Saviour of men. 

Farewell, then, thou crimes that are fully repented. 
Farewell, too, thou thoughts, that Avill sadden no more, 

And hailing the union that now is consented — 
For oh, with what welcome thy name I ador6 ! 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 135 



SAIL ON, SAIL ON. 

Sail on, sail on, ye snowy cloud 
That decks the heavenly brow, 

The winds no longer boisterous crowd, 
And thou art beauty now. 

Majestic looks thy softened mien, 

In such a noble height, 
The eye is charmed by all the scene, 

That dwells upon the sight. 

O would I had thy radiant wings, 
So bright and soft and fair! 

Like ye I'd mount the azure rings, 
Nor would I tarry there. 

To realms of bliss I'd quickly go, 
Where gale nor shadow guides. 

Where streams of mercy joyous flow 
And peace o'er all presides. 

Sail on, sail on, in all thy pride. 

Sail on, I envy thee, 
To where the waters calmly glide. 

And dreams beyond the sea. 



HOPE. 

As soars the bird on pleasure's wing 
Beyond the snares that earth allure, 

The better there, to better sing 
The songs of joy more sweet and pure, 

So hope may poise aloft in pride. 
And look with scorn on all below. 

And feel it can unhindered ride. 
Above the storms that shriek and blow. 

Lo, now it's reached the upper sky — 
Mark ye the song, how bold, how clear. 

As if it would in sport defy 
All that it knew engendered fear. 

So hope hath too its azure wing. 
While thought can think or vision roll, 

And joy, and faith, from fancy spring 
To emblem the aspiring soul. 



136 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



THEY PREACH ALAS. 

They preach alas, who say we rei^n, 

And only live to die ; 
That when we end this short domain, 

We have nowhere to fly. 
They gather crape around the tomb, 

Nor gild the suffered sigh, 
And leave the darkened to the doom, 

That offers hope no eye. 

But why are stars above us placed? 

And why their motions known ? 
And why is earth in heaven graced, 

And vaulted like a throne ? 
Yes, life would all a shadow be, 

A thing but made to mourn. 
If when 'twas o'er, it could no flee 

And call its rest a bourne. 



NOW BREAKS THE MORN. 

Now breaks the morn, in all its pride 

Of rapture and of beams. 
And morning blushes like a bride 

Awaked from pleasant dreams ; 
Again will life to beauty spring. 

Again the lark will soar. 
And slumber rising on his wing, 

Looks on his couch no more. 

Again the fields will teeming send, 

Their fragrance on the gale ; 
Again the skies Avill softened bend, 

Their shadows to the vale ; 
Again the sea, roused from the sleeps 

That held it in their throes, 
Upon the shore, white-crested leaps. 

And in the sunshine glows. 

Now breaks the morn of Heaven's dawn 

When all the earth will rise 
To own the Lord so holy born, 

That paints the gathered skies ; 
Then will my soul come on the scene 

With many a likeness there, 
View everything so sweet— serene, 

And count the joy how fair. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 137 



PSALM. 

Thou the adored One who healeth all anguish, 
Who soothest the children of folly and shame, 

Impart to this spirit whose temper does languish, 
Some check for the passions that seek to inflame. 

1 am so weary of enduring and dwelling, 
Dwelling with all that is hollow^ and vain, 

I am so weary of constant repelling 
Thoughts that but lure me to tempt me again. 

Free from such drossness forever and ever, 

I would divinely in nature now be; 
Do Thou these faults from my bosom then sever, 

That I am so urgently pleading of Thee. 
In this vale of contention no more let me linger. 

No more let me suffer the throes of distress; 
But e'en as the lark as the early morn singer, 

Sweep to the Portal that is soonest to bless. 

With all the fervor my feelings can muster. 

With all the praises my lips can bestow, 
I crave to anoint me anew in Thy lustre, 

That beams from thy bounty in pity below. 
Then I shall w^elcome my entrance to Heaven, 

Then I shall figure its joys to my eyes. 
And know I am now in this infancy even 

Ordained by Thy promise a child of the skies. 



OH, KEEP ME TRUE TO THEE! 

Bright rose the star amid the hosts of even, 
And all the sky a scene of beauty wore, 

And all the heart was moved to feel the heaven 
That spread its wonders with such lustre o'er. 

Bright rose the star the jewel of the firmament, 
That charmed the eye to see its splendor there, 

When night put on its richest wov^en raiment, 
And decked her features with a crest so fair. 

Bright rose the star, and thro' my fancy thrilling, 
It taught my soul the thought of other realms. 

Where Angel spirits are in peace fulfilling. 
The wash I long for in my fondest dreams. 

And like the star that now is brightly shining, 
Tho' soon the morn will hide its beam from me. 

Through all that comes, rejoicing, or repining, 
My hope — my God, oh, keep me true to Thee I 



138 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



O WHITHER THEN. 

When comes the time I now feel near, 

That I from earth must ever flee, 
Nor e'er regret tlie thought or fear 

That bade me but its terrors see ; 
For then, for then, since it must be, 

That hfe can soothe or charm no more, 
The dying pang death brings to me 

I care not how or soon 'tis o'er. 



O whither then abodes my soul, 

And whither finds my hope a home ? 
Must these thro' all the years that roll. 

Throughout that space still endless roam ? 
Is there no place where mind is not. 

To strain and strife eternal doomed, 
Or must it still the feeling blot. 

Ere that has to its fullest bloomed ? 

And must this eye forever weep, 

This sigh do nought but mourn and yearn^ 
To be as dreams within the sleep, 

Which come, and go, as they return ? 
And niust I hope to ne'er receive. 

And still the wish so dear, so fond. 
And from the blank of trust believe, 

There is no life in that beyond ? 

Ah no, it cannot— cannot be. 

This feverish will shall be denied, 
That love were all a dream for me, 

Or that I boast some fancied pride. 
For o'er the void I cannot link. 

Except in crave, perhaps in tear, 
My spirit scales the boundless brink, 

Of this, and that, already here. 

Then come all quick, thou realm of rest. 

Which all my thought and hope beguiles ! 
Where all the brow foretells the breast. 

And all the eye is bathed in smiles. 
And there may I, changed in alloy 

From all I was in truth of yore. 
Console my heart with things of joy, 

It never felt on earth before. 



DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 139 



A PROSE POEM. 

And as I slumbered, there came a voice unto my sleep, 
crying': "Wake, slumberer, wake! and dress thy senses 
to a spirifs tale." I did as commanded, to see a form— a 
shadowy, shrouded form, visible in nothing- but mystery — 
clad in the cerements of the grave. I scanned it vaguely, 
for the eye, more conscious yet in fancy than in reason, 
shunned the ordeal of a too discerning witness. It brooked 
not long my inspection, for with a poise that carried obedi- 
ence in its motion, deigned me to desist, and list to that the 
vision could not see, nor seeing, believe, without the evi- 
dence attending. Awed by its language and its mien, which 
bore the traces of ineflfable sadness, my visitant's behest I 
heeded as one enchanted by the spell of fear. Looking 
upon me it began, in tones all tremulously sweet and low, 
and which 1 thought were echoes of a song : " You would 
not think that 1 was once a dweller on this earth, and 
mingled with its pleasures and its throngs. Pleasures ! did 
I say ? Ah ! I thought so then, but now — ah now ! I dare 
not think their name again.''' It uttered this in such a 
pensive mood, more like silent music than the pitch of 
speech, that it aroused me to all alertness, and methought, 
as now my gaze came normal, I could detect in that frail 
being before me some sibyl of the shades below. 1 con- 
ceived no more, for breaking from its reveries it continued, 
— destroying as it did the lineaments of former revelation : 
"Alas! I had the gift of beauty, that fatal favor of the 
fates, that all who have must pay the penalty, sometimes 
in body, sometimes in soul, and mine has been both." 
And here the speaker paused so deeply and so long, that I, 
fearful for its studied calmness, could be still no longer, 
but exclaimed : "And who art thou, who cometh so, and 
speaketh so — so strange a strain ?" The figure sighed, and, 
trembling as it sighed, cast aside the cover that enveloped 
it. to show the bust — the contour — of a woman, blooming 
with virginity, and of surpassing loveliness, till I, whelmed 
by the power of the picture, could but whisper, "Oh, how 
fair!" This seemed to please her, and to be for uhat she 
waited, for with a smile that angels might covet could they 
see it, she replied in tones that thrilled with bitterness : 
"This once I was, and this" — and here her Voice, so intense 
in emotion, lost its distinctness, that she repeated — "and 
this, what now I am." I looked again to see that shape so 
altered, but how wrought I know not, that the eye shud- 
dered as it saw ; for disease, and bloat, were so visaged on 
its features that wonder was the slave of dread. As if 
divining the essence of my thoughts, her hand passed to 



140 DEVOTIONAL OFFERINGS 



her bi'ow, and with a look that seemed carved from suffer- 
ing, and imaged more than words, she cried : "Behold the 
brand of shame ! And this" — as now her hand descended 
to her breast — "the prey of ghouls — the haunt of crime; 
and that thing within— that beats, and beats, and echoes 
what it beats— a pendulum of despair— a blazon of remorse, 
and the symbol of the curse to her who owns." Her eyes 
blazed, her teeth clenched, and her voice so curdled with 
hoarseness as she spoke, that she looked a demoness of hate 
and fury. And like a mist she slowly floated from me. 
Alarmed at her departure, which now seemed more terrible 
to me than her presence, I implored : " Stay, inhabiter of 
hidden reahns, and tell me further." She turned a moment 
to mournfully rehearse : 

" I loved, but was not loved, excepting as you see ; 

I sinned, not in my sins, but in those unto me : 
Beware ye many maidens, who woo affection's bliss, 
Ijest in your trust of chasteness, you come to be as this." 

Saying which she vanished as she came. 

I slept again, to dream more vividly still of her, who 
came so strangely, and as strangely went. And when at 
last I dimly woke, the moral of my dream was plain, and 
it was : 



They who rifle virtue, 
And on its beauty trod. 

Despoil the fairest nature. 
Beneath the name of God. 



In no future edition of this volume 

will any poem 

be added or expunged from what it now is. 



■ 



m 



